My Heart Will Go On
by meldickinson
Summary: Jack is alive and looking for Rose in New York City. Will the two ever find each other and have their happily ever after?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Recently, I have been overly obsessed with "Titanic". I will admit that I have only seen the movie twice (so there might be some mistakes), but I am in love with it so much right now. So to fuel that obsession and do something useful with it, I figured I write a fanfic. Overused title I know, but I couldn't think of anything else. I'll change it as some point. Enjoy :)**

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 1**

_So I'm sure you've all heard my story. Jack Dawson, the third-class gutter rat. The struggling artist from Wisconsin and who traveled the world without looking back once. I was a free spirit kind of guy which appeared to always have more pros than cons. I was also the total opposite of her, and I'm not talking about our societal statuses. I'm sure you were told that Jack Dawson died in the sinking of the Titanic on April 15__th__, 1912. That I died of hypothermia with my beloved Rose by my side? But what if I told you I didn't die. What if I didn't die with the unsinkable ship that night?_

_April 21__st__ , 1912_

_Jack_

I sat on the steps outside of an Irish pub in downtown New York with an unlit cigarette held between my lips. I forgot how alive this city was. How it never slept. Although, I will admit it was nothing compared to Paris. People are alive there in Paris. At this point, I had spent my last bit of change on some gin, although I quickly began to regret it once I realized my sketchbook was long gone with the ship. I had nothing to do with my hands now and all I wanted to do was draw her face before I couldn't remember ever detail of her body. The blinding color of her eyes.

God, I couldn't believe it had only been a little over a week since the world stood still once the papers flew off the press. I'm sure Mr. Imsay is kicking himself right now. He is the bastard who brought us all down after all. I'm not that kind of guy to hold grudges though. They're not worth my time. I don't like to blame people for mistakes they couldn't fully avoid. But Caledon Hockley on the other hand, I hope that bastard rots in his own filth.

It was hard to believe that even I made it out alive. I thought I was gone the moment I lost sight of Rose beneath the icy water, but I kept fighting for her. Even though I nearly died with the ship that night, I don't regret a moment of it. I don't regret winning those tickets over a game of poker and I don't regret almost getting eaten alive by those upper-class pigs more than once. I don't even regret losing all feeling in my body while treading in the Atlantic because if I wouldn't have met her if none of it had happened.

Call me pathetic, but I was in love the moment I laid eyes on her red hair and pale complexion. I only knew her for three days and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She was such a trapped spirit. She had so much potential, but everything, including those silly death traps called corsets, held her back. What I would give to see her face again. I nearly gave my own life for her to be happy. I would have if they hadn't found me nearly frozen to death in the icy waters.

They pulled Rose out first after she thought I was dead. I had lost consciousness by that point, but something about the shrill of a whistle in the dead of night could wake a man out of his sleep, maybe even out of death. They pulled her out first and I felt my heart suddenly begin to beat again. She was going to be alright, I kept telling myself. She didn't need some street rat like me holding her back. Because of me, she was able to finally break free from the clutches of society. I thought I had done my job. But even if God had planned for me to die in the wreckage that night, something in me wouldn't let it happen. Even though I wanted her to live on without me, I wasn't going to let it happen.

I tried to make as much noise as my frozen limbs would let me since my throat was so dry and coarse, I couldn't speak a word. But I splashed around as much as I could and they finally noticed me, but my Rose didn't. Her mind was long gone. She was already looking towards the future, wondering what her next move was once she reached the _Carpathia_.

I felt so ashamed I couldn't find her while we were on deck. I searched every room and deck, but I couldn't find her. I even thought she might have been taken to a different ship. When I first asked if Rose DeWitt Bukater was on the list of survivors, they said there was no one by the name of DeWitt Bukater other than Rose's mother, Ruth. I felt my heart sink. Where could she possibly be? She had to be on this ship somewhere, and I couldn't go to her mother with questions. She would find some way to keep Rose from me. I thought about talking to Mrs. Molly Brown, but I felt like it was too risky to be getting involved with the upper-class, even if Molly had been so kind to me while we were on deck.

It wasn't until the next day, after we had reached New York Harbor, when I checked the list again for myself (I resisted the urge to cross off Hockley's name from the list) when I found my own name and right below it was another Dawson. Rose Dawson. I couldn't believe my eyes. I felt myself choke up a bit and I had to force back the tears of happiness. I couldn't believe it was possible to love her as much as I did, and her new name proved that she loved me back just as much. But as much as I loved her, I could have screamed at her for not checking the list one more time. I was right there, right above her just waiting for her to find me.

A week later and I'm still in the same pub I first found myself in once stepped on dry land. If you had been on a ship for three days, watched the ship sink before your eyes, almost froze to death, and lost the love of your life, you too would need a drink of gin.

Sometimes, I found myself subconsciously drawing her face on a napkin while sitting at the bar. The first time the bartender caught me doing this, he told me I could sell my drawing for a dime a piece to make some quick cash. The second time, he asked who she was. At first I didn't know what to say, but even after I thought about it for a second, the only thing I could say was that she was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I even promised him that I would find her again. Although, he made a point of pointing out that I wasn't going to find her sitting around in a pub, waiting for her rich ass to show up. But I didn't know where to start looking. I wanted to go knocking on every rich looking house I came across looking for her, but I started to lose my motivation after every door I knocked on was slammed in my face. I guess people didn't care about true love.

A soft rain began to fall as I finally lit the cigarette I had kept between my lips. The smoke immediately calmed my nerves, but I knew that no matter how many cigarettes I smoked, it would never bring me closer to finding her. I let out a sigh and pulled myself off the concrete stairs. Come the morning, I would start searching again. Find a job or run some errands to make a few bucks and sketch a few pictures asking if anyone as seen this girl. By the end of the week, I would find her and she would finally warm my still frozen heart again. And by the end of the month, we would be married if I played my cards right. Because I had played them right once before when first won the tickets to the _Titanic_, I knew I could play them right again.

_April 17__th__, 1912_

_Rose_

I realized there was no point in crying. Crying wouldn't bring my Jack back. Nothing could bring him back. I had cried so much that I must have dried myself out like a prune. I sat alone on the pier watching the ships come in while the afternoon sun hung directly above me. I still wore Cal's jacket, the torn dress that had once been soaked with frozen seawater, and a scarf tied around my head to cover my red hair. The "Heart of the Ocean" felt like a thousand ton brick in my pocket, but I couldn't bring myself to cash it in. I would either get a fair sum of money for it to start my life over, or I would draw them a direct link to where I was. I wasn't ready to take my chances just yet.

I had been in New York for two days now and I still hadn't found a place to go, nor had I even begun to think of place I could go. Time seemed to stand still since Jack was all I could think about. I thought that if I left the pier and walked around the city for a bit, my thoughts of Jack would cease enough for me to think. But I quickly realized that I didn't matter where I went, he was all I would think of. I thought of his striking blue eyes and his childish grin that made everything feel so real. I even thought of the way he touched me and how I would give anything to get those moments back. I thought of his positive attitude and began to wonder why it was always those who had so little were the ones who loved life the most.

But when I wasn't thinking about Jack and his positive outlook on life, I was thinking of the person he allowed me to become. He says that I saved myself, but I know it was him who saved me. I was no longer Rose DeWitt Bukater, the rich helpless girl from Philadelphia who had nearly died while on the _Titanic_, but rather Rose Dawson, the independent, tobacco chewing, spitting champion, refused-to-ride-side-saddle woman. I wouldn't have become anything if it hadn't been for Jack giving me the final push that I needed to break free. I thank God that it was Jack who pulled me up from the side of the ship. If it had been anyone else, I like to think I would have jumped and let myself drown in the icy sea. I would have been better off dead if it hadn't been for Jack.

But no matter how happy I was as a completely transformed woman (despite the constant heartache of losing Jack), I no longer had a name of wealth so no one wanted who they saw as a "widowed nobody" living with them. I couldn't go home to Mother no matter how homeless I was. She would immediately force me back into a corset and dragged me to more fancy dinner parties as she searched for a suitable husband. Or even worse, she would drag me back to Cal. _Like I didn't have a suitable husband already,_ I kept telling myself, but that beautiful lie wasn't a reality at all. I was never married to Jack, nor would I ever be. I was completely alone.

I had never felt more alive in my entire life than I had during those few days I spent on the Titanic. While we sailed on the high seas, I felt completely invincible. I felt that nothing could stop me from being who I really was. If I wasn't for _Titanic_, I would never have found out who I really was. I was Rose Dawson whether the rest of society liked it or not. I didn't belong at those fancy dinner parties and I didn't belong to any man who didn't love me. I was going to live my life the way I would have with Jack. Jack would always be who I would live for. But even if I did have this perfect life in mind for myself, I didn't know where to begin.

Jack told me to make every day count, but it seemed all too impossible if you didn't know where to go. But then again, that was how Jack lived his life. He never knew where he was going and things always turned out in his favor.

I watched the tide rise and fall on the sand of the beaches below and on the ships anchored in the harbor. It wasn't until the sun began to set and Lady Liberty looked as if she was settling down for the evening herself when a name other than Jack's rang in my head. Molly Brown. She had slipped me her temporary address before she was swallowed by the Big City.

I wasn't ashamed to admit that I felt that Molly could have been more of a mother to me in those few short days then my own mother ever had been. And I knew that if I talked to her, she wouldn't rat me out to my mother or Cal. She would keep me safe until I figured out where I was going. I felt for the slip of paper in my pocket where it sat weighed down by the "Heart of the Ocean". The necklace was a reminder of what I needed to do. For Jack. I took a deep breath and left my bench for the closest phone booth.

**A/N: I don't know how long this fic is going to be, but I'll be switching between Jack and Rose's POV. Hopefully you enjoyed. More will be up soon enough (hopefully).**


	2. Chapter 2

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 2**

_Rose_

_April 17__th__, 1912_

"Operator, can you please connect me through to 56 Broadway Street?" I held my breath as I waited for the call to go through. I hated talking on telephones. You never know who would be listening in and these telephone booths were so cramped. I stared down at her feet, refusing to make eye contact with anyone who walked past the booth.

"Alfred Atwood speaking," A rough voice answered the telephone.

"Hello," I felt my whole body suddenly begin to shake. I hadn't spoken to anyone in days, especially in not such a well mannered way. My throat was also incredibly dry. "I was wondering if I could speak with Mrs. Molly Brown."

The man had a coughing fit before he asked who was speaking. I was about to give my new last name, but stopped myself when I realized that Molly wouldn't recognize the name. I thought about giving mother's last name, but decided against it as well and merely said, "Rose. I'm an old friend of Mrs. Brown."

"Hold on just a moment, miss," The line went quiet as the man went looking for Molly. I felt a smile break across my face and the sudden urge to cry out when I heard Molly's familiar voice on the other end muttering about something or other. I couldn't believe how ecstatic I was to hear a familiar voice.

"Hello?" Molly spoke in her usual loud tone into the phone.

"Mrs. Brown," I quickly replied as I tried to smother my excitement.

"Rose DeWitt Bukater?" Molly laughed. I couldn't get over how much of a mouthful my old name was. Dawson was a much better fit. "My dear, is that really you?"

"Yes, it's me, Mrs. Brown," I spoke in almost a whisper as I felt the tears begin to form in my eyes.

"Goodness, honey. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Molly? I feel like my mother when you call me Mrs. Brown. How have you been?" Molly sounded just as pleased to talk to me as I was to talk to her.

"I'm…" I thought for a second about how I was feeling. Alone? Naked? Lost? "well." I finally answered. Molly didn't need to know how horrible I had been doing lately.

"Where have you been staying? With your mother or maybe you're with that boy still? (I felt my throat tighten knowing that Molly was refereeing to Jack.) I've been staying with some friends of mine, the Atwood's, until I can finally make plans to head home. The old fellow that answered the phone was Mr. Alfred Atwood himself. The poor man has the beginnings of tuberculosis yet he refuses to admit it. He nearly fought off the butler just so he could answer the telephone. It makes him feel like he can do something for himself still," Molly let out a sigh. "Oh I'm so sorry for all the questions, dear. I've just been so worried about you!" What I always loved about Molly the most was her ability to not care whatsoever what people thought of her. She talked with such confidence rather than with proper ladylike English.

"It's so great to hear from you, Molly. It really is," I didn't know where to start and I definitely didn't want to admit I was currently homeless, but isn't that why I called Molly in the first place? In search of a place to live? "No, I actually haven't even seen my mother since last week," I wasn't even sure if my mother knew I was even alive. "And no, I'm not saying with Jack because…." I couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," I was so grateful I didn't have to explain herself to Molly. "Jack was such a nice boy, and I know you two cared for each other so much. He will be greatly missed."

"Thank you," I muttered and began to stare at a street sign across the street. I once heard that if you stare at something long enough, you can stop yourself from crying. I tried my hardest to distract myself enough so I wouldn't begin to cry. I decided I should probably just get to the point of my phone call. "As much as I hate to intrude-"

"Say no more. The Atwood's have plenty of room here, and Harriet would love to have another guest. Since her youngest son, Robert, moved out just last year, she's been a bit lonesome."

"Oh, I possibly couldn't- "

"I won't take 'no' for an answer, Rose. And I know that's exactly the reason you called here in the first place."

I felt my ears begin to burn and was so thankfully Molly couldn't see my face at the moment. "Well, if you think the Atwood's will be alright with it, and if you insist – "

"I insist. I really do," Molly said forcefully. "Where are you now by the way? Please don't tell me you're using a phone booth on the side of the street?"

At that very moment, a car honked loudly behind me and was followed by the several yells of angry drivers. I bit my tongue to stop myself from cursing.

"Oh, sweetheart. Stay right where you are. I'll have Harriet send Howard over to pick you up."

I told Molly what street corner I was at before hanging up the phone. I had to stand there for a moment and let it all sink it and go over my options. Staying with the Atwoods was only the first temporary fix to my problems. Of course I would have to get a job and find a place to permanently stay, but for the time being, I felt a weight suddenly rise off her shoulders that I didn't even know existed in the first place. My biggest hope was that I would be welcomed back into society as no longer just another rich girl, but rather an equal who could walk down the street without someone knowing how rich I was or what family I came from. I could avoid the gossip of the upper class and live without their options holding me down; yet another reason I was grateful to have not married Cal.

I sat on a bench near the phone booth and waited for Molly to arrive. I kept my eyes on the busy life style of New York pass by so quickly right before my eyes. I had always enjoyed the Big City, even as a little girl when I had visited it numerous times, but there was something about the country side and the simple life that had always been strangely pleasing. I remember visiting my great Aunt Lettie's farm as a child and wishing so desperately to be able to wake up at the crack of dawn every morning just to milk the cows and watch the sunrise without a building obscuring the view. I knew Jack would have loved to live on a farm together some day.

This was the first time I had felt joy, maybe even a bit of excitement, since the ship sank. I thought about making myself presentable before my ride arrived, but my red hair was impossible to comb my fingers through. It was tangled and filled with salt, and I knew that Jack would have said I should be worried that a bird might decide to make a nest in it. The thought of it made me laugh out loud. My dress was torn and full of sea salt as well. The people walking by must have thought I was a crazy old hag, but they were so involved with their own doings that they didn't even notice me for a second. I twiddled my thumbs to pass the time, refusing to put my hand in Cal's coat pocket, and thought of how I could not wait for the moment she could sink into a warm bath.

Molly was with Howard, the Atwood's driver, when the car arrived about half an hour after I made the call. Molly greeted me outside the car with open arms. Howard bid me a warm hello and held out his gloved hand. At first, I found him to be slightly intimidating with his unshaven face and his worn clothing, but I found only kindness in his striking green eyes. He even pointed out that Ms. Brown could easily be taken for my mother since they were both blessed with striking red locks. Molly and I both laughed at the statement.

"Look at you!" Molly let go of my for only a moment to get a good look at me. "I'm sorry to say it, but you're a wreak, sweetheart. I'm sure you can't wait for a bath."

"You have no idea," I replied with a smile as the two women slid into the car.

The ride to the house consisted mainly of Molly discussing the past couple of days and how she came to stay with the Atwoods. They were old friends of her husband's and she always found Harriet to be such a kind woman. She vaguely touched on that tragedy that had only happened days before, merely saying that it's in the past and everyone must move on, even if so many souls were lost. Despite the talk of the tragedy, I was so grateful to be with such a positive person, rather than my mother's harsh tone.

We finally pulled on Broadway after making our way through the afternoon traffic.

"Now, darling," Molly voice was suddenly serious. "I know your mother is not exactly the most sensitive - or sensible for that matter - of woman, but you need to let her know that you're alright. A mother deserves every right to know that her daughter is alive."

"But she wouldn't understand!" I pouted like a child. I couldn't believe that Molly was suggesting such a crazy idea like running back to Mother. "She would drag me right back home and force me to marry Cal!"

"I would never let that happen," Molly said forcefully taking my hand in hers as she looked directly into my blue eyes. "I would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you never end up with the slime. He doesn't deserve you one bit. All you need to do is write your mother and tell her that you're alright. You don't need to tell her anything else."

I knew Molly was right, whether I wanted to admit it or not. Heck, even Molly knew she was right, but I could only pull my eyes and hand away from her and stare out window. I wasn't ready to be brought back and torn to pieces by her mother and her rich friends like she was some porcelain doll. My life has suddenly opened up to so many new possibilities. But it was only a letter, right? There was no harm in a letter to merely tell Mother that I was alive and that I didn't _completely _hate her. I had already decided I would start the world anew as a Dawson and Mother wasn't going to take that away from me. And as a Dawson, I would make my own way in this world whether Mother, Cal, or anyone else protested or not.

"By the way, love," Molly said in almost a whisper as they pulled into drive in front of the Atwood's Victorian home. "I'm sorry to hear about the boy. I know you two would have been very happy together."

Howard announced we had arrived and helped me from the car all while I fought back the urge to cry.

**A/N: God, Rose is such a baby in this chapter but she'll get better I promise XD I'm trying to get this fic going while I'm still home. For those of you who don't know, I'll be leaving for summer camp in a couple of weeks, so I won't be writing much of anything while I'm gone… which is why I'm writing now. This chapter was meant to have both Jack and Rose's parts, but they both got too long that I had to put them separate. Anywho, reviews are always appreciated :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 3**

_Jack_

_April 26__th__, 1912_

"So what can you do?" I refused to pull his eyes away from this man no matter how ugly and dirty he may be. As first I focused on the unibrow between his dark, heavy eyes, and then I tried to focus on the soot that was embedded between the wrinkles on his forehead, but it only made me think of how much I wanted a bath of my own. I decided to turn my attention back to his eyes whether his gaze killed me or not.

Subconsciously, I pushed my hair back out of my eyes. "Well, I am definitely a dedicated, loyal, hard working man, sir, and any of my past employers would tell you the same thing." Although, I couldn't tell you the names of any of my past employers, other than the one I just left in France. And even if I could remember their names, I knew this guy wasn't an idiot. He probably heard this same bullshit day after day.

"Lemme tell you something, son. Every man that comes through that door," the man pulled the cigar from between his crapped lips and wiped sweat off his forehead with his hat before pointing at the cracked door. "says the exact same crap to me and quite frankly, I get tired of that bullshit." See what I mean? "And before you ask, looks aren't going to help you out here, pretty boy. You can head over to the whorehouse across the street if that's what you were hoping."

I needed this job. For the past 3 days, I had been back and forth, up and down, all across town looking for work, and every place I went, they found some reason or another to kick me out. Whether it be because I was from Wisconsin, or just because I spoke French, they somehow thought it was just another foreigner trying to take over the American way, or even because they thought I was a troublemaker just by looking at me (The last one was somewhat true, but I don't try and make trouble. It follows me.). Textile factories, cab drivers, busy boy, produce stockers, stable boy, lumber yards. No matter what I tried for, they didn't want me. America really had become such a pain since I had been here last. I was about to head towards New Jersey when I decided to make one last visit to an up and coming automobile manufacturer on the outskirts of the city.

So here I was in Mr. Jamison's office that wasn't much of an office at all. The desk was shoved in the back of the room and only two chairs sat in the middle of the room with a single light bulb hanging above us. It was around four in the afternoon. The windows that lined the walls of the warehouse were so dirty, you could barely see daylight, and the sounds of the mill left no ounce of silence in the room. Mr. Jamison fit right in with the messy décor. His baling head was covered with a stocking cap and his blue button down shirt was wet with sweat.

"Mr. Jamison, sir," I leaned forward in the wooden chair, rested my elbows on my knees, and clamped my hands together as if I was about to get on my knees and beg. I had a bit more dignity than that, but I was getting desperate. "I'm not asking for your sympathy, but I really do need this job -"

"I'm going to stop you there, Jack," Mr. Jamison leaned forward in his chair and was now in the same position as me. His heavy black eyes looked directly into mine. "You seem like a respectable man, but I don't need to hear some false pathetic story about how you just lost your entire family on the _Titanic _and you now have nothing to live for."

"How can you tell if their stories are false?" I heard myself snap. Out of all the employers I've talked to over the past three days, none of them had mentioned the _Titanic_. I found myself frantically searching for the pack of cigarettes I had finished just before stepping into Jamison's office.

"What?" Jamison let out a bitter laughed along with a heavy puff of smoke. "You mean to tell me that someone of your status somehow made their way onto the Unsinkable Ship?"

I thought about telling him some fake story about how I had some great aunt who lived like a queen in France and she and I were traveling to America to visit my parents back in Wisconsin, but I was now positive that Mr. Jamison had heard every line in the book by now. He wasn't easy to fool.

"My best friend Fabrizio and I won tickets over a game of poker. Fabrizio died with the ship," At first, I held no emotion in my voice and that voice didn't belong to me. It was empty, unlike the ship that rested at the bottom of the Atlantic. The ship was nowhere near empty. It made me wonder if ghosts could swim.

Jamison still held his eyes steady on mine. There was no emotion in them either. I couldn't tell if he actually believed me or if he thought I was lying like all the men before me. I didn't hold my breath in anticipation. I didn't shift my weight awkwardly waiting for his reply. I just stared directly into those dark brown eyes of his in hopes that he would see that I wasn't lying.

I noticed my voice grew in strength as I spoke and became more of my own. This was the first time I had ever talked about the ship since it had happened after all. "I was on deck until is broke the surface of the icy cold water. I almost died from the hypothermia, but thankfully an officer spotted me and here I am today, alive, well, and unemployed, sir." I even let out a small smile at the end of my story to show Jamison that I wasn't going to let even a horrific tragedy break my spirits.

He said nothing at first. He merely leaned back in his chair and cross one arm over his chest; the other hand held his cigar to his mouth. He still kept his gaze on me and I felt like he was piercing my soul with his gaze. I wanted to escape it, but I knew Jamison wanted to see if I could handle being under pressure. I would have been right except testing me was the last thing on his mind.

"You think I'm lying," I asked wishing I had a cigarette on me to give me something to do with my hands other than twiddle my thumbs.

Jamison shook his head and began to point at me with his cigar in hand.

"Something else happened on that ship that you're not telling me about," He quickly leaned forward in his chain again, elbows back on his knees. "Sure, every man wants a job, but someone like yourself, Jack, I can tell you're not one to be held down, especially by work. You'd do whatever to make a few quick bucks and then you're on your way, but you would never want to work at somewhere possibly permanent like a car factory."

"So you do believe me," I felt a familiar cocky smile make its way onto my face.

"You really are a cocky bastard, aren't you," Jamison laughed.

"No, sir. Just confident."

"And honest. Many men lack honesty these days."

"Thank you, sir."

"And I'm no fool, Jack," Jamison's voice was suddenly serious again. "I'm sure you've figured that out by now. Something else happened on that ship that you're not telling me about."

"I'm sure once I tell you, you'll think I'm a sap and won't want to hire me, sir,"

"Try me."

I let out a sigh since I figured I didn't have much of anything to lose, well, other than a job. "There's this girl."

"Ah," Jamison's dark eyes lit up for the first time all afternoon. "There's always a girl," He took a long drag of his cigar before he stood up and headed towards his desk. "What happened to her? Did she die with the ship as well?" He shoved his cigar into the ash tray on his desk before he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of one of the drawers and tossed it to me. "But clearly she didn't because you wouldn't be here today if she had." He flipped his chair around and rested his dirty arms on the back of it once he sat. "Is she some upper class gal who wouldn't be caught dead with scum like now that you're off the ship and back in society?"

"No, she's not dead. Yes, she is upper class but she let herself free of society's clutches. Or at least I like to believe she had." I held the familiar weight of the cigarette between my lips as I talked and searched for the matchbox in my pocket. "And I refuse to believe that she is the one who got away. Because she hadn't gotten away from me. I just have to find her."

"So clearly she is the one who got away, kid."

"No, she's not because she's in the city somewhere!" I pulled the unlit smoke from my lips and held it between my fingers. "And if she didn't think I was dead, she would be searching for me as well."

"She thinks you're dead, kid?" Jamison laughed out loud. "Jesus, you've got some issues you need to sort out."

"Her knowing I was alive would make things a lot easier," I muttered to myself as I finally lit the cigarette. "But I'm going to marry her once I find her."

For a moment, the only sounds in the room came from the humming of the factory.

"Lemme see your hands," Jamison held out his own with his palms facing up.

"My hands?" I asked pulling them out of my pant pockets.

"Yes, give me your hands, son. You can tell a lot about a person just by looking at their hands."

I reluctantly placed my own hands on top of his, palms facing up. "You're not going to read my fortune, are you?"

"Your life line does look pretty long," He chuckled. "So I'm pretty sure you weren't meant to die that night."

He studied my right hand, flipping it over onto its back. "Not only are your hands callused, like you've worked with machinery before, but your fingers are callused. Especially your right knuckles like you hold a pencil a lot. You a writer?"

"No, sir. I'm an artist. Well, a struggling one at that. I used to sell my drawings for a dime a piece while I lived in Paris," " I had to stop myself from thinking about the last time I drew a paying costumer. "It's hard to sketch people in New York since they move so much. "Good to know," was all he said before he let my hand fall to my side.

"Tell you what, kid," Jamison reached for his own pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. "I'll let you work here not only because I think you'll be a good man to have around, but because I want to help you find this girl, and I want you two to have the best wedding my salary of thirty cents an hour, six days a week can offer."

I wanted to stand up and dance around while I whooped and whistled, but I contained myself with only a smile. I was one step closer to being with my Rose.

"Thank you so much, sir," I took his hand and firmly shook it with both hands. "You won't regret."

"You'll start on Monday and you'll be working with a man named Rodgers - "

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and a nicely dressed man that didn't look much older than me poked his head in.

"Oh," the man was surprised to see me. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

"No, we were just finishing up. Come on in, Robert," Mr. Jamison stood up to shake this clean cut man's hand. "I've just hired another great man into the family. Jack Dawson, I'd like you to meet Mr. Robert Atwood. He owns this factory."

"Hello, Jack," Robert said with an overbearing smile while extending his well polished hand.

I stood up to shake his hand once I tried to wipe my hand clean of dirt and sweat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Like I said before, I'm not one to judge or to hold grudges, but there was something about this guy that clashed with me. And I knew right then and there, for some reason or another, something or someone would keep us from getting along.

**A/N: I hope to have chapter 4 up before I leave for camp, but I can't make any promises. Lemme know what you think :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 : My Heart Will Go On**

_**Rose**_

_**April 22**__**th**__**, 1912**_

It had been five days since I first arrived here at the Atwoods' and already I was growing more comfortable then I should. Molly said that she would be moving back home soon enough once her house was finished with renovations that had started before she had left for London. She even insisted that we move in with her sister until they were done so we wouldn't be such a bother to the Atwoods, but Harriet refused and promised Molly we could remain her for at least another month. I think Harriet had grown just as much of a liking of us just as we had of her.

I was only there temporarily after all, but there was something about listening to Molly's warmhearted laugh at dinner every evening, the smell of Alfred's pipe tobacco, and Harriet's motherly like attitude that made it so appealing and hard to resist. Even Howard's gentle face and words made it hard for me to even imagine leaving such a wonderful place. Although I was in the home of a wealthy family, I didn't feel trapped. For once in my life, I lived among the upper class and didn't feel as if I was someone's doll. I was allowed to wear what I wanted, go where I wanted, and live how I wanted. The weight no longer hung over my shoulders.

The weight would still be there now if Harriet and Molly hadn't gotten me out of the house on my second day there. When I first arrived at the Atwoods, I was so exhausted, all I had time to do was eat and bathe before I feel into bed. It didn't even have the strength to dream. On the second day, the ladies got me out of the house and into a dress shop just down the street. Most of the morning consisted of Harriet and Molly picking out dresses for me to try on that matched my hair and complexion like I was their own little doll. It was absolutely unbearable and I began to worry that the shackles of society still clutched me with a corset. But to my surprise, by the end of the day we were all laughing and joking about the silly hats and outfits we all tried on and how irritated the seamstress was with us. I left the shop with three new dresses and three more to be delivered later that week. It was fantastic really to be able to finally laugh and smile again after suffering from such shock. The moment they pulled me out of the icy waters, I thought my life was completely over and that I could never go back to the way I used to live. But then I began to think of how life would be living as Molly's daughter and I could finally start anew like I so badly dreamed of doing. And even if I didn't spend any more time with Molly after this week, I wondered how I would make it as a single woman. I really did like the idea of being my own independent woman, but Molly's company was just too perfect to pass up.

It wasn't until my third evening there did I finally meet the Atwood's mysterious son, Robert, and even then I knew that our meeting wasn't a coincidence. Molly and Harriet had something up there sleeve and Molly confirmed my suspicions later that evening.

The four of us, Alfred, Harriet, Molly, and myself, all sat around the rectangular dining table. Alfred and Harriet sat at the ends of the table while Molly sat to my left. There was a seat made up across the table from me, but the chair remained empty. It was good to know that we had imaginary dinner guests. China with delicate flowers painted on them sat before us and I remembered the first night eating dinner here I was so concerned about breaking their tableware since I was so prone to doing it back home. I was only picking at my food and toying with a stray curl of my red hair while Molly and Harriet went on about their daily gossip and Alfred smoked his pipe between bites of his chicken and coughing. It was near the end of dinner when there was a quick knock on the back door before who I assumed to be Robert pushed his way into the kitchen. I could see his shadow bobbing around in the dim lighting. It was strange to have heard so much about a person and to have never caught even the simplest of glances from them. Harriet's chatter with Molly stopped the moment Robert entered and she said silently as she waited for him to enter. But Robert only bustled past the dining room without even glancing in or begging a simple hello and headed towards the stairs with an armful of papers.

"Robert, darling," Harriet called out.

The footsteps towards the stairs ceased and a face emerged from around the corner.

"Yes, Mother?" Robert asked with such a boyish expression on his face. His soft green eyes looked directly at Harriet as he spoke. He clearly thought highly of his mother. But despite his boyish smile, I immediately noticed how similar he looked to his father. They shared everything from their dark hair color to the shape of their cheek bones. He could have been an exact replica of what a younger Alfred must have looked like other than the soft eyes that she shared with his mother.

"I would much appreciate it if you joined us for dinner so you could properly meet our guests," Harriet spoke with a smile.

Robert smiled at Molly before he finally met my eyes. His boyish expression suddenly disappeared and he looked quickly back towards his mother like he had seen something he shouldn't have.

"Of course," He spoke softly before slipping back into the kitchen to drop his things off. When he returned, he had removed his jacket and tie. Normally, someone would have pointed out that he wasn't dressed properly for dinner, but Harriet was just so glad to have her youngest son joining her that his appearance didn't matter. He ended up sitting directly across from me where my imaginary friend once sat. I guess he was no longer imaginary.

"Darling, you remember Mrs. Molly Brown? She's stayed with us before."

"Of course, I do. And she wouldn't let me forget it even if I wanted," He pulled his napkin off the table and placed it in his lap. Molly let out a chuckle. "Your husband is a very popular man in the line of business."

"Oh yes, he is…," Molly could have been going on for hours about her husband, but I wouldn't have noticed. There was something about Robert that I found to be so fascinating. It must have been the fact that whenever someone spoke of Robert, I imagined an older man with years of experience and graying hair near the ears, but instead I found a young man that didn't look much older than me. He looked like he was twenty, twenty-two at most.

"And you must be the Rose Dawson I've heard so much about," The sound of my name startled me. I had been so caught up in thought that I hadn't even noticed the fact that Molly had spilt her wine. I looked across the table to find Robert's green eyes smiling back at me.

For some reason I found myself lost for words. I couldn't make myself respond in any way other than a nod.

A laugh left Robert's throat. "There's no need to be shy. I don't bite." I suddenly felt my ears begin to burn. I thanked God that my hair was down for dinner that night. I could have slapped myself for being so incompetent. Why did my body lock up like the way it had?

As dinner ended and we entered the parlor for dessert. At first, Molly and Harriet chattered away about the day again with the occasion question for Robert, but soon enough Robert and I were left alone on the loveseat. Harriet and Molly had to suddenly hurry into kitchen and they tried to drag Alfred with them, but he was already settled into his chair with groggy eyes.

"They must be going for some more cookies," Robert smiled. "Don't mind him. He'll be out for the rest of the night." He gestured towards his snoring father.

"So your mother says that you work in a factory?" Personally I would have kept quiet for as long as possible as I let myself become invisible, but I knew I needed something to talk about since he kept staring at me. "What kind of factory? Textiles, sewing – "

"Automobiles," He answered for me. "We manufacture automobiles in a plant just near the edge of the city."

"Have you worked there long?" I asked as I tried to keep the conversation going, although he looked as if he didn't want to talk about work.

"My father used to own the factory, but when he became… ill, I took over." I guess Alfred wasn't the only one who liked to admit he was sick.

"How old are you?" I couldn't help but ask. "You look too young to own your own company." I knew it was improper for a lady to ask a man his age, but since when have I been proper?

A laugh escaped Robert's lips. "Yes, that may be true, but someone had to take over after my father. I was twenty at the time he asked me."

He was looking directly me at me now. This man knew he had charm and exactly how to use it. "To answer your question, I've just turned twenty two this past December."

He turned his attention towards his father for a split second before returning it to me. The other women still hadn't returned. "But enough about me. Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"

I really did hate to be put on the stop. I've never been one to talk about myself. I always felt so selfish for speaking of my own life when I could be listening to someone else's that was usually much more interesting. At first, I thought about mentioning the Titanic, but I immediately refused because that only brought me thoughts of him… I figured I could mess with Robert since he was trying so hard to woe me over with his charm.

"I've been traveling with a circus for the past three months, but when we reached New York, I just couldn't handle being away from civilization. Also, the bearded lady appeared to enjoy my company a bit too much so I felt like it was my time to leave."

At first, his eyes fill with disbelief and awe until I burst out in laughter.

"Should I continue and tell you that I used to juggle while walking on the high rope?"

Finally, a laugh left Robert. "No. You would have to tell me that you also balanced a cat on your head as well. Then I would have believed you entirely."

A loud snore came from Alfred's side of the room causing our giggles to grow even more. Only when Molly poked her head in asking if we wanted more cookies did we stop. I thought about telling him how I once lived in Pennsylvania and how my mother forced my through years of ballet, piano, and finishing school and how my father died, but I figured I would save him the trouble and skip over my boring life story.

"I love art," I answered simply. My answer may have been simple, but it was what I wanted to say, not just what I knew he wanted to hear.

"So you're a painter," he guessed.

"Not a good one," I laughed. "But I paint when I can. Mainly I just view and study art."

"What do you plan on doing once you and Molly leave here?" The sudden change of topic and his question caught me off guard.

"Honestly, I would love to see the world on my own, but my gender tends to limit my possibilities of that happening." I heard myself babble and think out loud and then desperately wished to take it back. "I am so sorry. I apologize my inappropriateness."

But Robert continued to speak as if he hadn't been offended in the least bit. "What if I told you I knew someone who could help you out?"

"What do you mean?" I was rather confused with what he was talking about. Was he wanting to hire me on at his factory?

"I know the curator of the art museum. I could see how he would feel about hiring a new lovely red headed tour guide." His smile was so addicting. It was hard to look away when he used it.

"No, you possibly couldn't. You've only know me for a few hours. How could you know I was qualified for such a job?" I let my imagination get the best of me. If the curator hired me, I would be able to study and educate people on the beautiful masterpieces of Claude Monet, Vincent van Gogh, and the upcoming Pablo Picasso. I found it rather hard to contain my excitement even if my chances of getting the position were very slim.

He merely shrugged. "I figure you wouldn't lie about something you were passionate about," His soft green eyes remained steady on my own. "And maybe one day you could be teaching art history in a university." I felt myself blush before I turned away.

"That's very kind of you," I whispered.

"I talk to him as soon as I can," He tried to catch my eyes yet again, but I refused to look over at him. He then rubbed his hands on his pants before pulling himself off the couch. "Now I must be going. Lots of work to do before the night is over. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Rose Dawson."

He held out a hand for me to take, but I couldn't push myself to do it. I suddenly felt naked and exposed at the idea of his lips brush my hand even if I did wear gloves over my pale fingers.

"It was a pleasure to meet you as well." I choked. I still kept my eyes away from him as I began to tug at the gloves on my hands. After a moment, he let his hands drop and he left the room without glancing back.

That night before bed, Molly came into my room in her pale pink nightgown and sat at the foot of my bed. Her intentions of dinner were revealed within seconds to being in my room. She babbled about how great of a husband Robert would make and I could only roll my eyes and pull my floral blankets over my head to tune her out.

"Rose, darling, I'm serious!" Molly chuckled as she tried to uncover me from the mess of blankets. "Robert is a respectable man unlike that pig Caledon, and this time you wouldn't be forced to marry him. He is a wonderful man and you know you like him."

"I've only just met him tonight! And getting married is the last thing on my mind right now," I protested from beneath the quilt. "Robert offered to find a wonderful job, not offer his hand in marriage. Can't a woman live her own life without having to worry about living on a man's arm?" Then I began to wonder if Robert only offered to help me out just to woe me over some more. I desperately wished that was not the case. I really did hope that Robert and I could be friends. I felt that a friend was what I needed the most right now, not a man and future family.

"You can, but you're young and beautiful now, love. And you'll only stay that way once. Men these days don't want to marry older women,"

"Jack would love me no matter how old I look," I found myself mutter, but the blankets muffled my voice enough so Molly couldn't hear. I was surprised when I realized I hadn't spoken of Jack since the day I arrived here. Of course I was always thinking of him, but I noticed that I was thinking of him less and less as the days went by. Sometimes, I only thought of him when I said my prayers at night, when I spoke to him about how much I missed him. But I couldn't let myself forget him even if I tried. It was so easy to fall back into that trap in my mind that was so full of happiness and despair.

"I just want you to be happy," Molly gave up trying to find me in the mess and let out a sigh. "I know you had you heart set on marry Jack, but we all know that can't happen. You can still love him, but you need to move on, sweetheart, and make room for another man in your heart." She spoke as if she actually had heard me from beneath the covers.

"I'm not expecting you to make up your mind any time soon, but just promise me you'll think about it. Robert would make a good husband."

Once again, I knew Molly was right, but I didn't need to marry myself off yet. I had a place to live. I even had an income. I didn't need a man to run my life for me. Yet as much as I would love to remain single the rest of my life with Jack being the only man I would ever love, I knew I would have to leave this fantasy and grow up. Independent women didn't make it very far in today's society. I promised Jack I would live on without him, start a family without him, and fall in love without him. But all that could wait for now, couldn't it?

"Rose?" Molly wasn't leave until I gave her the answer she was looking for.

I forced myself to bury out of my covers, but only enough for my eyes to peak out.

"Fine," I grumbled. "But I'm not making any promises other than the promise that I'll think about it."

A smile appeared on Molly's face. "That's good enough for me."

The night was the first night I had dreamed of Jack I had arrived. He looked just like he did on the first night we meet. He wore the same worn clothes and his soft dirty blonde hair fell before his sea blue eyes. More than anything I just wanted to hold him in my arms. But when I called out for him, he couldn't hear me. He stood on the back of the Titanic with his feet balancing on the railing. I tried to run for him but something held me back. I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. I turned around to find my mother hold one shoulder and Cal holding the other both with nasty grins on their face.

"Jack!" I screamed with tears streaming down my face. "Jack, please help me!"

They were pulling me back into their trap and this time Jack wouldn't be the one to save me.

"Jack!" I cried out again as he looked over his shoulder at me with a smile, but his lips were blue and his body was suddenly covered with frost and ice.

"The fall won't kill you, but tell you the truth, I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold," his teeth chattered as he spoke. "It hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe. You can't think. At least, not about anything but the pain. Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you…" He let his feet slip out from beneath him and disappeared over the railing.

"JACK!" I let out a blood curdling scream as my mother and Cal pulled me back and everything went black.

**A/N: Hey all. I'm back from camp for the weekend and I really wanted to write this so here we are. I don't know when I'll get the chance to post again, so hopefully this will please you guys for a while. BTW, I used an exact quote from the movie that I don't own. Just figured I'd point that out. Hope all is well. Review please :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I am oh so sorry it has taken me so long to update. Life has been so crazy! Hopefully this chapter will make up for it :) **

**Chapter 5 : My Heart Will Go On**

_**Jack**_

_**April 27, 1912**_

I woke up with a start. Some damn car honked from across the street waking me from my wonderful slumber on a bench in Central Park. But I began to wonder if it was the car that really woke me or if it was just my subconscious running like a broken record, refusing to let me sleep. I was dreaming of her. She may be my poison, but damn I just can't get her out of my head. She's like a horrible hangover that leaves you with a throbbing headache and causes you to promise yourself you'll never drink again, but you know it's a lie because you enjoying drinking way too much. Am I really that pathetic to be getting so much pleasure out of so much pain?

I regretfully pushed my jacket off my face and opened my eyes to only be blinded by the morning sun. I let out a sigh and pushed the hair out of my eyes. I held my hands over face as I thought about the dream.

_She was in a white sundress and the wind whipped around her. She was barefoot standing in the sand and the roar of the sea filled my ears. She stood with her back to me and her long red hair blew around her. She looked like an angel._

"_Rose!" I called out her name over and over again but she never turned. She just stared out into the sea. I wish I could have seen her face to figure out what was going on in that mind of hers. I began to run toward her but the sand pulled me down. It felt like weights had been tied to my feet and they kept me from my flower. "Rose…" I whispered as I stood alone in the sand._

_She turned her head as if she heard a distance cry, as if she finally heard the plea of a ghost. But the wind still whipped her hair about and hid her face from me…_

I wish I could tell you what happened next, but that damn car horn woke me up. Or maybe it was for my own good that I woke up. I could only imagine her spotting me along the shore and running towards me with open arms. I would have kissed her and held her so close to me that we would finally be one. It would have been the perfect ending to our story, but we all know that perfect endings don't happen just like that. You have to work for them, and damn was I working for mine.

I threw my hands from face and let them dangle to the grass beneath me while the soaked up the morning dew from my clothes. In my left hand, I felt the blazes tickle my skin and it was the most comforting feeling I've had in days. In my right hand though, I felt a newspaper that found itself pressed up against the leg of my bench.

I pulled myself up and sat upright. The paper was from two days ago. The Titanic was still front page news, but then again why shouldn't it be? The front page article talked about what had happened and I felt the memories hit me like ice. I suddenly was wading in the icy waters again with Rose at my side, but I shook the feeling off and kept reading. There was nothing written that I hadn't read before, but the events the writers' used to described the accident were nothing compared to experiencing it firsthand. I'm sure if I sat down and told them my story even, the readers would never feel what really happened. But then again, they don't know Rose.

Every time I read the front page, I can just imagine Mr. Imsay kicking himself, harder and harder every morning when he reads the paper. This definitely wasn't the article he was hoping to get in the _New York Times. _The article referenced page three which had a list of survivors. I frantically flipped to the next page. There were a few more names than what had been on the original list, and my name sat directly above Rose's. If only she would read the paper once in a while! Or maybe she wasn't even in New York anymore. Maybe she was back in Pennsylvania with her mother. No. My Rose would never do that. She's not suicidal.

But while on page three, I noticed another article. It wasn't big news but apparently it was enough to get published. Just the title of the article made me laugh bitterly out loud and clinch the paper tighter in my hands "Caledon Hockley Survives Titanic". So this was the schmo that had been giving them their news. Flipping back to the front page, I noticed that it only talked about the first class survivors. They said nothing about those who stayed in the lower levels. I'm surprised they even published my name in the list of survivors since I was a street rat and all. But I was curious to what Cal had to say. Of course he would use lines like "I watched my life flash before my eyes over and over again", "How sorry I feel the families of those who didn't make it" and "I didn't think I was going to make it, but I pulled through". That son of a bitch. He only made it out alive because snuck onto one of the life boats. What a coward.

I forced myself to keep reading until the end where he talked about how he was looking forward to getting right back to work so he could keep the tragic images from his mind. He also mentioned how devastated he was about the loss of his fiancé. I wanted to scream! He didn't care about Rose for a single second! He only cared about himself. And that bastard never worked a day in his life! Try working on a farm once in a while and tell me how hard labor feels.

I crumpled up the paper and threw it back to the ground. I'm not a violent person, but that rotten son of a bitch really should have gone down with the ship and if I ever have the misfortune of running into Cal again, I will let him know that.

I stood up and stretched. Did a few toe touches to get my blood flowing. I didn't start work for another two days, so the question was what to do with my time now that I finally found a job. Maybe search for a place to live other than on a bench in Central Park? Nah. I would need money for that, something I don't have much of at all. Actually, I didn't have a cent to my name. I just need to find myself some paper to sketch on… I chased after the paper I had just crumpled up. Thankfully it hadn't found its way into the sewer water yet. Well, I had my canvas, now I just needed a pencil and a subject.

It would be easy enough to just use some mud and finger paint a masterpiece, or maybe just scrap some sludge from this city's streets (let alone the people). But what I wanted was charcoal. I mean, soot would work, but it would brush right off the paper. Where could I find a pencil at least. I mean, I could always flirt with a waitress or just simply ask her if I could borrow a pen… Why didn't I think of that in the first place? That ice cold water is finally getting to you huh, Jacky.

I headed down the street to the closest café. New York was full of these places, but none of them compared to the cafés in Paris. I spent days and nights sketching whoever walked in that door that sparked the slightest light of inspiration. Paris was just so alive… But I'm sure you're tired of me talking about Europe. But God, would I love to just find Rose and bring her back across that damned ocean with me, even if that ocean nearly did tear us apart permanently.

I was so lost in thought about Paris, my Rose, and the pencil I would find inside that café that I didn't even notice the man that caused me to nearly fall into the busy street as I tried to avoid running into him.

"I am so sorry, sir!" I tried to keep a straight face but I couldn't help but laugh. "Didn't see you there. A man's thoughts will be the death of him, literally."

"Oh, that's quite alright, my good man," He said as I leaned over the pick up his hat. I tried to brush off the dirt, but he pulled it from my hands. "No need. Thank you, though." He brushed the dirt of himself, but in no hast like most New Yorkers would. He tenderly brushed off his hat as if he too was lost deep in thought. I finally managed to get a good look at the man that I nearly killed myself for.

"Mr. Atwood," I blurted out and held out my hand. Even though confusion was all over his face, he took my hand. "Jack Dawson. Mr. Jamison higher me to work at your plant just yesterday."

His eye light up once the realization sunk in. "Mr. Dawson! Pleasure to see you again," Atwood began to relax a bit.

"Please, sir. Call me, Jack. I'm not my father after all."

"Jack. Sorry for nearly pushing you to your death. I've got a lot on my mind these days." _Oh you're not the only one,_ I thought. Atwood talked as if we had known each other for years. Maybe he was just glad to be talking to someone who wasn't balding or with a great white beard. It didn't seem like this guy got away from the corporate world too much.

"Going in for a cup of joe?" I asked once I realized I was right in front of the café I was headed for.

"I thought I was," Atwood glanced down at his watch. "But apparently my driver took me to the wrong location. I'm supposed to be meeting a lady friend of mine here for a bite to eat, but we seem to have gotten the addressed mixed up."

"Well, sir, if she's worth it, you'll find each other," I smiled slowly making my way towards the door.

"I assume so," He smiled back. "See you on Monday, Jack."

"See you then, sir!"

I slipped inside the café and breathed in the strong smell of the morning brew. It was filled with the hustle and bustle of the morning rush. Somehow I managed to push myself through the impatient New Yorkers to a booth in the back of the place. I slide across the seat and up against the cool window. I had a perfect view of the city and the intersection right outside. Mr. Atwood still stood outside the place with his driver, looking at his watch impatiently. Was his lady friend coming here to meet him or was he heading out?

I scanned the café for a waitress, but for the moment there were only waiters out and about. I mean, I could have acted a little unlike myself and win over some guys' heart, but that was too risky. One of the handsome waiters came over and asked what I would like to drink, but as much as I would have loved a cup of coffee, I declined. I eyed the pencil in his shirt pocket, and he gave me the stink eye for sitting there without ordering anything. Well hey there, sir, I'll be a working man come Monday. I'll just have to wait for my coffee until then.

Despite my original judgment of this place, I found a few good subjects for me to draw once I finally got my hands on a pencil. Once you push away the crowd and look at the people sitting in the booths, you can find some interesting faces. An old man sat in the booth a few seats in front of me. He had very distinct lines on his forehead and on his hands. His bifocals rested on the brim of his big nose and his face was buried this morning's paper. Standing in line for a drink, a mother held her son's hand. The boy was so dazzled by the crystal chandler having over his head and the way the morning light reflected on it. His face was priceless. Then in the bay window at the front of the café sat a couple who you could tell was deeply in love. I felt a pit in my stomach grow as I watched them laugh with each other and hold each other's hands from across the table. I forced myself to look away and return to the crowd to find myself a waitress.

She bustled past me so quickly I barely had time to get her attention, let alone notice her. She was juggling mugs and plates full of half eaten pastries.

"Oh, miss," I called out. I was worried she wasn't going to stop but she paused with a sigh. "I'm ready to order."

"You'll have to place your order up front, sir," She balanced the plates with precision.

"Here, lemme help you with those," I stood up and tried snatch the top few plates from her, but she pulled them back out of my reach.

"Thank you, but no need, sir. I do this every day on my own." Jesus. This girl was like a snake ready to bite. Maybe I should have found a different girl, but she was the only one here.

"Easy," I smiled. She stared me down. I shrugged and pushed my hair out of my eyes. "Alright, you caught me. I just wanted to talk."

"Well, you can clearly see that I'm a bit busy," she snapped. She was cute with her long brown hair pinned back out of her face.

"Which is why I offered to help you out," I poked my head around the plates to find her name tag. "Wendy."

She rolled her eyes and started to walk off. "Wait," I called out again. She stopped but this time didn't turn to face me. "I just need a little favor from you. The smallest of favors really, presented to you by a poor farm boy from Wisconsin." Even though she wouldn't turn around, I held my hands together knowing she would see me out of the corner of her eye.

She said nothing but at least she didn't try to walk off. "I just need five minutes of your time," I continued making my voice sound as innocent and soothing as possible. "Five wee little minutes. Hell, maybe it won't even take five minutes. I just need to tal-"

"If I talk to you, will you leave me alone and let me get back to work?"

"Most definitely, Wendy. I give you my word."

She thought about it for another second before taking off into the kitchen. I sat down, satisfied. I knew she would be back. I watched minute hand on the clock above the front door move. After three minutes she was back. She took a seat across the table from me and wiped the flour off her hands on her apron.

"Alrighty, sir. What do you want to talk about? You have five minutes, remember."

"Well first off, lemme do a gentlemanly thing for once and properly introduce myself. My name is Jack Dawson."

"Hello there, Mr. Dawson," She studied me with her dark eyes trying to figure out what my intentions were.

"Jack," I corrected. She said nothing so I figured I would just be blunt about it. "Do you believe in destiny, Wendy?"

A laugh left her lips. "Oh Mr. Dawson. If this is your attempt to ask me to marry you, it's not going to work."

She began to toy with the ring on her left hand: A golden wedding ring set with three pearls.

"Oh no, Wendy," I smiled. "I'm already destined to be with another even though you are very pretty."

Color filled her cheeks. "Then if you already have a girl in mind, then why are you asking waitresses about destiny?"

"Well, the problem is she thinks I'm dead," I smiled sadly.

"Now why would she think such a silly thing?" She asked.

"Because she thinks I died with the_ Titanic_. But clearly I didn't."

She said nothing and instead waited for me to finish my story. "I found a job at the automobile factory just outside town just so I would have some money to prove to her that I could support her. Even though she would have married me as the street rat I am, I couldn't marry her completely penniless. But my real passion is art. I am a struggling artist. I normally would sell a drawing for a dime a piece but times are hard and-"

"So what is this favor I can do for you, Jack?" She sweetly asked for the first time.

"I need to make some extra money on the side. And as a poor, penniless hopeless romantic who is indeed a struggling artist, a lack something simple."

"And what would that be?"

"It's sitting in your breast pocket."

She leaned back in her seat at first appalled with me but then realized what I was talking about.

"You went through all this trouble for a pencil?" She asked in disbelief. She pulled the yellow pencil from the breast pocket of her apron. "You could have just asked me for one rather than going to all this trouble."

"I figured you would have just said no."

"Probably," She smiled. "But some people might surprise you." She pulled a pen from her pocket and set it next to the pencil. She stood up. "Your five minutes are up, Jack."

"Thank you, Wendy," I stood up and held out my hand. "You're really helping a man out."

"Good luck finding her." She quickly took my hand before slipping back into the kitchen.

I sat back down in my booth a stared at my prize. I didn't think I would ever been this happy to see a pencil. I wanted to kiss it. I wanted to make love to it! Whoa there, Jacky. It's not Rose after all. But it's another step closer to her.

I leaned back in the booth and closed my eyes. _Things are going to be alright_, I kept reminding myself. I let myself think of her so I could sketch her right now on the crumpled up newspaper. I thought of her red hair and her blue eyes and those curves… I could have drawn her with my eyes closed, but once again, a damned car horn broke my concentration.

I looked out the window once my eyes had refocused, looking for the bastard who broke my thoughts, and then I saw her. She was stepping out of a car in the mid-morning light. Her red hair was pulled up out of her face and she wore a soft pink dress over those curves. I was pressed up against the window. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs! I wanted to run to her and hold her so close to me and never let her go. There, in the flesh standing only yards away from me was my flower. She was so beautiful!

I was nearly half way out the door when I stopped myself. I couldn't. I couldn't run to her. I couldn't scream out her name. I couldn't hold her close. Not now at least. Not here. She would think she was seeing a ghost. I was dead to her after all. I sunk back into the café and pressed myself up against the front window. God, Rose, why do you have to be the death of me?

I could have sworn for a split second that she saw me before I ducked away from the window. I would have to approach her some other way, but how was I going to find her again? I dared to peek out the window again and I watched as she made her way down the street with her arm in another man's, slowly walking out of my life and bringing a piece of my heart with her.

**A/N: Chapter 6 will be up eventually. I'm so sorry I made you all wait this long for an update. Life has just been so crazy and this chapter was a bitch to write. Hope you enjoyed though. Reeevviewww please :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the lack of updates! It's not much but here's Chapter 6. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 6: My Heart Will Go On**

_**Rose**_

_**April 25, 1912**_

I watched the brush as it dragged down the canvas. Beneath the brush, colors of orange, yellow, and purple smeared together into the sunset. After a few more strokes, I pulled back and looked at my work. I let out sigh that blew the stray hairs out of my eyes. Painting was frustrating work, especially when I couldn't see the sky I was painting. Even in my memory, the image was fuzzy. I bit into my lip. I didn't want to lose this memory, but for some reason I couldn't focus. Every time I thought of the sunset from where I stood on the nose of the ship, my memory of the sunset would smear and my body began to tingle to the touch of Jack's skin and the song he whispered as he dragged his lips across my ear…

"_Come, Josephine, in my flying machine, going up, she goes up, up she goes"_

No. I shook my head. I couldn't keep doing this or I was going to break down right there in the drawing room with Mr. Atwood reading the paper next to me. For some reason or another, he liked to watch me paint but he always fell asleep before I had my palette arranged. I felt my chest tighten up when I thought of Jack. Why did he always have to make things so difficult for me? All I wanted to do is paint the sunset, but Jack wouldn't let me because he's too busy purposely distracting me with his kisses… I threw my brush down with a groan of frustration and desperation. I wasn't getting anywhere like this. I had to clear my head.

Molly sat in the kitchen with Harriet. They both sipped on their afternoon tea.

"Rosie!" Molly smiled. "How's the painting going?"

"Just fine," I muttered as I washed the paint of my hands in the wash basin. "Just perfect." I scrubbed harder at my hands until they were raw red. Jack was always stumbling into my mind. I would smack him if I could for driving me crazy.

"Can we see it yet?" Harriet asked as she dropped a sugar cube into her porcelain china teacup.

"No, it's not finished yet. I keep getting distracted," I dried my hands on the floral dish towel and headed towards the foyer. "I'm going for a walk."

"Are you sure you don't want Howard to drive to wherever you're headed?" Harriet called after me.

"And Robert will be home in few hours!" Molly added. I rolled my eyes. She couldn't stop talking about Robert. He was a nice boy but I didn't want to wait around for him like Molly wanted. I was a free woman now even if Molly and Harriet were both trying to set me up with him.

"I won't be out long." If Molly was my mother, she would have smacked me if I had walked away from her while she was walking or had seen me rolling my eyes. I pulled my coat over my shoulders and shoved my hat over my mess of red hair. I opened the door only to be greeted by the sounds of the city. I hurried down the stairs and across the street. I had to get out of this city air. I needed to clear my head and New York City was definitely not the place to do so. I headed towards the river ignoring the hooking cars, the busy shops, and everyone that passed. I noticed I was holding my breath, like I couldn't breathe in any of this city air. I needed the river. I needed the sea. The wide open waters followed by endless possibilities. I was nearly sprinting by the time the river came into view. I climbed up the highest hill and let out a sigh of relief. I breathed in the open air with deep heavy breaths as I plopped down on the hillside. I could see the ocean from here. It might have only been just a little, but it was enough.

I took off my hat and let the breeze and the sun tickle my face. Today was warmer than it had been lately so I even removed my jacket and sat on it. Normally, a woman would be worried about being alone out here without being completely covered, but I didn't care. I just needed the sun. I watched as the ships and barges rolled in and dragged my hands through the grass. Dandelions scattered the hillside and robins hopped around the grass looking for their dinner. Somewhere down the hill, a family shared an afternoon picnic. I listened to the sound of the water lapping against the shore as my eyes began to grow heavy…

I found myself lying down in the grass after what felt like only moments later, but I noticed the sun was lower in the sky and the family nearby was gone. Had I fallen asleep? I cursed myself and pulled my jacket out from beneath me. This was one of those moments when I wished I had carried a pocket watch around with me like a man. I still had a bit of time until dinner, but I know that Molly was been worried sick. I must have been gone for nearly two hours. I climbed up the hill back to the sidewalk cursing under my breath the whole way. I was going to be late for dinner for the first time since my first stayed at the Atwoods.

I brushed past a series of benches busy cursing myself before I suddenly stopped myself and turned around. There sitting on the bench at the end of the walk was Robert Atwood. His legs were stretched out in front of him and he held a newspaper in his hands. As much as I hated to admit it, he did look rather charming sitting there. I reluctantly turned back and made my way to his bench. I quietly took a seat on the opposite end of the bench and hugged my jacket to my chest. A small book and his suit jacket sat between us.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he asked not looking up from his newspaper, but the edges on his mouth twitched.

"To dinner. I suppose you'll be headed back home before too long yourself?"

He turned his attention to me with one dark eyebrow raised. "When have I been known to be on time to dinner?"

"Well, _I_ don't plan on making a habit of it." I snapped.

He turned to me with bright eyes, completely speechless about my outburst. He quickly turned his attention back to his paper.

"What are you doing here anyway?" I watched as the breeze blew his draw hair around his face. "I thought you had work."

He shrugged and kept reading, "Sometimes I'll sneak out early when the weather's nice."

We sat there in silence for a moment as he read. For some reason, I couldn't move. I couldn't decide whether to leave or to wait from him offer to walk back home with me.

"I'm…sorry I snapped at you," I figured I should apologize for my tongue. "A lot has been on my mind lately. I should just…. go."

Why did I always feel so awkward around him? Maybe he was in on Molly and Harriet's attempts to get us together? I couldn't have that, but before I was about to leave him alone, he took me by surprise.

"Caledon Hockley," I felt my heart tighten at the sound of his name. "Do you know him?"

I swallowed hard holding back my tears and anger. I hadn't heard his name mentioned in weeks. "I know the name." I spoke through my teeth. Robert didn't seem to notice or just ignored it.

"Says here," he gestured to an article on page three of today's paper, "Caledon Hockley Survives Titanic". "that he survived the sinking. I didn't know he was on the ship."

"Shame," I muttered, but quickly added, "That he was on the ship. It was such a traumatic experience for all of us to go through."

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I know it's still hard for you," He quickly sat up and dropped the paper down next to him. "It's just, I knew Cal. Well, sorta. We worked together for a bit when we were younger. Last I heard he was to be married."

"I couldn't tell you," I wasn't going to wait for him to ask about the obvious anger I had towards Cal so I quickly looked for something else to talk about. "What is this? Your little black book?" I snatched up the small book sitting between us.

He smiled and shook his head, "Not even close. Like you, I too have a passion for the arts, or at least I like to think I do."

I flipped open the small book to find sketches. I immediately thought of Jack, but these drawings were nothing like Jack's. They weren't of interesting people will delicate hands. They were of cars, well, badly drawn cars at that.

"I know I'm not much of an artist," He set his paper down and turned towards me. "but I'm the best the company has."

"So you design cars when you're not managing the factory?" I continued to flip though the book, studying his uneasy strokes of his pencil. He didn't have a steady hand.

"Or I try to. I'm hoping to find someone who can draw soon enough so we can pitch a new design since these sketches are just an eye sore."

"I wouldn't say that…" I tried my best to hide my smile.

He laughed. "You're allowed to say it. I know they're terrible."

I let out a laugh too. "Well, automobiles are hard to draw since they're so complex."

"No, cars are simple. You just have to follow the directions to put them together. But women are hard to draw since they're so complex," His voice dropped and smile faded. "You have to understand them before you can draw every detail of their pales faces and bright hair and eyes perfectly…" His voice faded out and I knew he was staring at me. I felt my ears begin to burn and kept my eyes on his drawings.

"I had a friend who could draw," I blurted out. I felt my heart drop. Why would I say such a thing? I wasn't ready to talk about Jack to someone who didn't know him.

"Well I'll have to send him a letter and let him know he's hired," Robert was smiling again as he put his hands behind his head, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed the impatient tapping of his foot.

"That won't be necessary," I closed the book slowly and placed it between us again. "He died."

His smile faded just as quickly as it had come. "I'm deepest apologizes. I didn't-"

"It's alright," I stood abruptly. I was about to make a run for it before the tears began to flood, but I swallowed hard and held them back. I couldn't have Robert thinking I was upset with him. That would just cause a further explanation of Jack that I was not willing to give. So instead, I put on the best smile I could muster and held out my arm. "How about we head back home for dinner?"

He stared at me for a second with a blank expression on his face. "Ye-, ye-, yes," he stammered out of confusion, but quickly gathered his things. He laced his arms into mine, "I would be delighted."

**A/N: Once again, sorry it's been so long. I've just been so busy with school and life and all that jazz. Also I'm having huge writer's block when it comes to this fic. I'm trying to drag out Rose and Jack's inevitable meeting as long as I can but I'm running out of fillers. Any ideas you guys have would be awesome :) Anywho, as usual, I can't promise when chapter 7 will be up but hopefully soon. Hope everyone had a great holiday and happy 2012! Revviieww please :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: The wait is over! Chapter 7 is here. Hope you enjoy :)**

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 7**

_**Jack**_

_**April 30, 1912**_

"Dawson! You need to tighten the bolts, not unscrew them completely!" I didn't hear Mr. Jamison at first because my head was somewhere else. As you probably well already know, my mind was on Rose. She and I were back on that beach, but I couldn't see her face. "Dawson!"

I shook my head and my reality came flooding back. I was standing in a factory surrounded by greasy machines and just as greasy men. Jamison shouted at me from the scaffolding above my station. I worked near the end of the assembly line of the automobile factory. It was my third day on the job and I still couldn't get my act together. I would start the day off strong, quickly attaching the tires to the wheel's axel. I'd fly through them, but once they rang the bell for lunch, I couldn't get my head back together. I never had something to eat myself, so I would sit outside on a ledge overlooking the river and sketch. You would think I would sketch the skyline or the current of the waters or the seagulls flying overhead. Never. I was drawing her.

I couldn't get her out of my head after I saw her that day in the café. She was with some mysterious man. After I saw her with him, I couldn't breathe. I thought that all my struggle so far had gone to waste. But giving up wasn't like me, even if there were tempting thoughts of giving back and heading back to Wisconsin. I realized that I had to get a new approach. Maybe I no longer had the chance to have Rose as my wife, but I could still have her as a friend. Just as long as she was happy, of course. But who I was I kidding. I knew I wouldn't be happy with that.

I looked up at Jamison finally. "Get your head together, man!"

"Sorry, sir!" I shouted wiping grease off on my pants. "I'm just feeling a bit off today!"

"Well get back on it!"

"Yes, sir!" Maybe I could fuel my frustration with Rose into my work. I twisted the wrench with everything I had in me and quickly moved on to the next tire. Maybe I could allow myself to think about her, just not daydream about her. I just needed to figure this shit out! Why did women have to be so damn confusing!

Before I knew it, my partner Frank on the other side of the car was the one having trouble keeping up with me.

I needed to try being just friends with her, if this mysterious man was actually someone of importance in her life. But that's not like Rose. She wouldn't have jumped back into a relationship so quickly. It hasn't even been a month since the wreak and she was already back in the arms of a man? No! This wasn't her. She was being polite to him and letting him escort her. Maybe that's all he was, an escort. But if that was the case then she was living with a wealthy family. She wouldn't have gone back with her mother. Her mother must have thought she was dead. But then I remembered the article in the paper about Cal. He could have snatched her up again. No, I was getting ahead of myself. Pull yourself together, Jacky!

"Dawson, slow down!" Frank called out over the machines.

"Sorry, mate!"

But then it hit me. I only knew Rose for three days. It only took those three beautiful yet tragic days for the love of my life to fall into my pathetic life and quickly fall right back out. But she made such a difference on me, and I thought I had made that much of a difference on her. Maybe she wasn't the person I thought she was…No! Jacky, stop it. You're just going to work yourself up.

The break bell rang again and everything slowly began to shut down. Had four hours really just past? I wiped the sweat from my brow and headed for the locker room.

"Dawson!" I heard from above me again. "My office, now."

"Yes, sir." Shit. Jamison was already going to fire me. My third day on the job and I was already messing things up. I climbed up the metal stairs to his office on the third floor.

I followed him into the room and closed the door behind me. He leaned up against his desk and waved his hand for me to sit down.

"Sir, I'm sorry I haven't been able to pu-" The words just poured out of my mouth until he stopped me.

"Dawson," he stared at me for a second before continuing, "what's going on? At the start of the day you have such promise, but then you fall out right after lunch. And then now you're suddenly flying through cars that even Frank can't keep up."

"I'm sorry, sir. I've just had a lot on my mind lately."

"Well, pull yourself together."

He was right. I felt ashamed. I was already letting Jamison down and he was so generous in giving me this job in the first place.

He let out a sigh. "Jack. I can read people pretty well, and I know that you're a good, hardworking man. But whatever has got you in a bind, you gotta get out of it."

"I know, sir. I don't know what' gotten into me."

"And I've noticed that you don't eat on lunch hour. You're always just flipping through today's paper."

"Drawing, actually," I mumbled. "sir." I quickly added.

He ignored my comment. "I don't like it when my men have nothing to eat."

I didn't want to be honest about telling him I have nothing to eat other than the scraps I find lying around behind restaurants. I felt like a stray dog. But that's what I've always been I guess, a scavenger of sorts.

"Where are you living?" he suddenly asked as he walked around his desk and sat down in his squeaky aluminum chair. "I know you're pretty new in town."

I could lie and tell him I found a nice place on the upside of town with a beautiful terrace and crown molding, but lying has never been the Jack Dawson style.

I rubbed my hands together and rested my elbows on my knees. "Well, to be honest, sir, I don't really have a place to live. I kinda just go where the wind takes me, or where the police don't arrested homeless guys like myself."

"So you're homeless." his voice was completely flat.

"Yes, sir," I said with as much confidence that I could muster which wasn't much as this point. Between the reality that I was sleeping under bridges and eat scraps again, and the fact I might lose my Rose, I found it had to keep breathing sometimes, which scared me. A lot. I've never been one to give up. I've always made the best out of every situation and learned to be happy, but for some reason, I couldn't fight it right now. I think it might have been because Jamison gave me a chance and I was messing it up for everyone.

"Hungry, homeless, and from what I can see, you're still not married."

"No, sir." Thank you for rubbing it in the wound like grains of salt.

"But you're still fighting for his girl, right?" He had a strange shimmer in his eye like he wanted me to find my Rose. That he needed me to find her so he could keep his fate in love.

"The best that I can, sir," which wasn't my regular best, but I'm sure Jamison could tell that by emptiness in my voice.

"Love is a strange little thing, isn't Jack," he reached inside his shirt pocket for his pack of cigarettes. "It's like this flame," he pulled out a book of matches and shook them gentle in his hand, "it has so much potential when it starts up but it can easily burn out when you're not paying attention." He struck the match and lit his cig. The flame died out in a whisp of smoke. He handed me a cigarette and the match book.

"I'm worried that someone else might have struck a new match for her," I whispered hoping he wouldn't hear.

"How about instead of drawing on your break tomorrow," He told a long drag of his cigarette. I swallowed hard. I was waiting for him to say I would be fired before too long. I was so nervous I couldn't even strike a match. I just held the cigarette between my lips, "you ask around and see who will let you bunk with them until you find a place of your own. If you're going to work for me I want you in tip top shape every day. So you get your act back together and prove to me that you're the hardworking man I know you are."

"Yes, sir," A huge wave of relief swept over me. At least I wasn't getting fired today.

"Now get back out there and prove me I was right about hiring you before we all go home."

"I will, sir. I won't let you down!" I grinned as he headed towards the door.

"Jack," he called as I turned the knob. "You say you're doodling during your lunch break?"

"Yes, sir," I was confused. "Just doodles."

"Alright. Have a good day, Dawson." He began to fumble in his desk drawers.

"You too, sir." I closed the door behind me.

Once the final bell rang for the day, I hurried to the locker room to gather my things. I didn't have much of course other than a jacket, my prize pen, and some scraps of paper.

"Hey Dawson," Frank called out from behind me. "Where are you headed tonight?"

"No where really," I pulled my jacket over my sore shoulders. "Just gonna go find me some dinner."

"A bunch of us are headed to the pub down the street. You should join us." I watched as he pulled his bag from the bottom of the dusty locker.

"Yeah, get away from the wife and kids for a little bit longer." William, a big burly guy who works in steering, laughed.

"Or get away from his _ma mére _in Seamus's case!" Georges, a scrawny French fellow, howled and gave the ginger a slap on the back.

"Hey, chaps. My mother is a wonderful woman," his strong Irish accent was very hard to ignore. "She happens to make great cabbage corn beef."

"Where does she get the beef, her own fat?" William shouted and all the guys laughed, even Seamus.

"No, she gets them from your mother." Seamus snapped back and he and William began to play fight.

"Alright, fellas," I finally spoke up. "I'll have a pint with you guys." 'Cept I had no money for said pint, but it wouldn't hurt to tag along. Where did I have to go anyway?

I felt like we were a bunch of little school boys making our way down the street. We didn't even have drinks in us and we were already laughing up a storm. The group was welcomed into the pub like regulars and a pitcher of ale was already on the table seconds after we sat down. I didn't realize it until we were inside that this was the Irish pub I found myself sitting on the front steps of when I first got off the _Carpathia._

"Hey Chuck, where's Wendy?" Frank asked as he poured himself a glass.

"She's still at the café, but Sam is off tonight so she won't be in for a few days," the bartender Chuck called out from behind the counter.

"Wendy?" I asked. It seemed unusual to me that I was meeting two Wendy's in the same week, both of which who worked at cafés.

"Yeah, Wendy's my little cousin," Frank shrugged.

"His_ belle petite cousine_," Georges smiled from across the table.

"Hey, back off, Frenchy, and drink your booze."

"Does she work at the café off 5th Street?" I asked.

"Yep that's here. That little blonde beauty. She's married though. Shame," William sipped his ale and watched for Frank's reaction over the top of his cup. These guys just gave each other a hard time.

"So Jacky," Seamus asked as he leaned over the table. "Tell us about yourself. How did you end up in the Big Apple? Immigrated like Georges and myself?"

"In a sense, fellas," I smiled. "I'm from this little place called Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, but basically since I knew how to walk I've been on my own, strolling around the world looking for a place to claim as my own, you know? But I was in France not too long ago myself. Maybe I saw you around, Georges. I lived in Paris for a bit making a living by drawing people on the street." I suddenly wondered why I couldn't just do that here, sketch for people again, but I needed to make money fast and working in a factory seemed to be the best bet. But my fingers itched to have charcoal under their nails.

"Wendy could model for you," Georges giggled. Frank threw a dirty spoon at him.

"So how did you end up here?" Chuck had now joined the table. He sat backwards in his chair. I noticed how callused his hands were. The urge to draw was becoming unbearable.

"Well, I was on this little ship called the _Titanic_-" I took a sip of my ale as they interrupted me.

"What!" They all said in unison if they weren't choking on their drinks. I grinned. I loved seeing everyone's reactions when I told them about my trip.

"A chum like you was on that huge piece of work? We'll I'll be..." Frank couldn't believe his ears. This made my grin grow so big that I must have looked like I was about to kill everyone in that little pub.

"Did you steal the tickets or something, or are you actually a grand duke from some little country near Wales or something," William reached over to the bar and grabbed some peanuts out of a bowl before shoving them into his mouth, shells and all.

"Nah, nothing like that. I won the tickets off some French fellas in a game of poker." I reached into my pocket for a cigarette, thankful I took two from Jamison.

"So you must be pretty good then. You should give Wendy a go. She's the best one out of all of us," Frank smiled. "Did you know that when we were kids, she hustled Robert at bridge and he had to give her all his Christmas candy that year."

"Way to go, boss," William poured himself another glass.

"Wait, you knew Robert as a kid?" I asked.

"Yep. Robert is another cousin of mine. His mom, my mom, and Wendy's mom are sisters," Frank said matter-of-factly. "There's ten of us cousins. Aunt Harriet lost three babies before Robert was born, and they didn't even he was going to make it, so he's they're pride and joy. I've got three siblings myself, and Wendy is one of five. But Little Robert is the baby of the bunch so we give him a lot of trouble. Wendy hates Robert, but she ended up marrying one of Robert's old friends, Sam, from school who works in the coal mine. She works at the café during the day and here most nights. No one knows for sure, but I'm pretty sure she's now pregnant."

"Wow," Was all I could say at first. I sipped my ale. "So how did you end up working for your baby cousin then? I'm surprised you don't wrestle him around at work more often. I would have never know you two were related."

"Well, Uncle Alfred was the one who hired me and made me promise to not give Little Robbie a hard time once he retired, or he was going to fire me myself. Or worse, he would tell my mother." Frank shivered. "You do not want to upset my dear old mother."

"She's a bit nasty," Georges smiled. "Especially when you don't please her sexually."

"You French piece of shit," Frank gave Georges a vulgar gesture with one finger. We all laughed. I really liked these guys and definitely wanted to hear more about the Atwood family. So the Wendy I met in the café is actually Frank's cousin and both of them are cousins to our boss, Robert Atwood. This family tree was starting to get a bit confusing.

"Frankie," Chuck asked after he finished serving some new costumers that had just talked in the door. "Tell us about this new girl Robert is going after. I hear she's living with him and his family along with that crazy old bat. Molly was her name you said?"

"Oh God. You're going to have to get me a bit more to drink before I start telling that sappy love story." Everyone laughed again, but my curiosity just kept growing.

"She's a ginger like me!" Seamus grinned broadly. His smile was almost as wild as his bright red hair.

"Wonder is the curtains match the carpet," Georges and Seamus howled and leaned back in their chairs.

My heart suddenly stopped. Two things I had just heard were too much of a coincident: the name Molly and the fact that someone had red hair…

"I really don't know much about things other than the fact this mystery girl is living with the Atwood's now," Frank reached for some peanuts from the bar. "She was abandoned or ran away from home or something. Not too sure. But somehow, she and that crazy old bat Molly ended up living with them for the past couple of weeks. I don't know how much longer they're set to stay there, but Robert doesn't mind the company at all. He's trying to win this girl over according to Wendy who was over there a couple days ago to visit. But who knows with Robert. He's so picky with his women."

"Do you know the girl's name, or Molly's last name?" I quickly asked leaning over the table in anticipation. I'm sure I looked desperate but I didn't care. Could this mystery girl have been my Rose? I did see Robert the other day soon before I saw my Rose. Could he have been the mystery man I saw her with? My head was spinning.

"Nah, I couldn't tell you," Frank held a questionable look on his face. He was looking me over with curiosity and bright eyes. "You'd have to ask Wendy."

"Say, Jack, where are you staying? You got a buddy you're bunking with?" We were all off guard my William's sudden change of subject, but Frank was happy to be done talking about his cousin's love life. I needed to hunt Wendy down and figure this all out. If Robert was the mystery man then I don't know what I was going to do. I could jeopardize Rose's place to live and my job. This reminded me of my time back in Wisconsin when I had to bind rope. Lots of intertwining and knots.

"Actually, I don't really have a place to live. I just go where the wind takes me, or where the cops won't find me," I was giving this speech for the second time today. I was starting to feel ashamed of not having a more stable lifestyle. If I was going to raise a family with my Rose, I couldn't do it under a bridge or in an alley way.

"Well I know Chuck's got a spare room right above us!" William threw his hands up with delight. These men really did enjoy drinking their ale. "Don't you, Charles."

"That I do, Willie," Chuck was still behind the bar, drying some freshly washed dishes. His bald head was just as shiny as the clean glasses in the dim light. "It's just me, my wife, and the old Marley that live up there, sometimes Wendy when it's been a late night."

"Hope you don't mind dogs. Old Marley is a licker." Frank threw back another drink.

"But I sure do love that pup!" Seamus laughed and put his hands up to his ears to imamate Marley's huge floppy ears.

"So how about it, Jacky? You stay here with Chuck for a small rent?" William scratched his dark beard as he stared at Chuck with hopeful eyes.

"I love how you're just making my business deals for me, Willie," Chuck rolled his eyes.

"That's what friends are for!"

"Yeah, just as long as you keep buying me out of beer," Chuck turned to me now. "You up for bunking with Old Marley?"

Today was defiantly a day that was hard to believe happened. First I'm called into Jamison's office thinking I might be fired, then I'm asked out for some ale that I don't even have to pay for, then find out about Robert's crazy family tree, and now I'm rooming with a basset hound. Could things get any stranger?

My smiled beamed and I held out my glass for a toast. "To Old Marley!" I shouted.

"To Old Marley!"

**A/N: Sorry for such the long wait guys! I've been so busy with school and life and work and my own works. OH BUT GREAT NEWS! I'M GETTING PUBLISHED! WHOOT! You'll find my work in Umbrella Factory Magazine on March 15th (here's the link to their site .com/) So look for me, Melanie Whithaus, on the 15th. I'm so pumped. NOW ABOUT THIS FIC: Chapter 8 will be up as soon as I write it. I've just been lacking inspiration but I've definitely got a crazy plot going on right now. So many characters! Well hope you enjoyed and be sure to check out my published poetry. REVIEW. I LOVE YOU ALL.**


	8. Chapter 8

**N/A: Sorry for such the long wait! Enjoy :D**

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 8**

_**April 26, 1912**_

_**Rose**_

I quickly clipped back my hair and hoped to God it would hold for the rest of the day. Today was the day Robert was taking me to the art museum. I woke late and I was so nervous I could barely fasten the pearl buttons around my sleeves. My hair was a mess since I didn't have time to wash it or properly curl it. The comb that tamed my wild hair was a gift from Harriet. It was a beautiful butterfly comb, much like the one I had lost on the Titanic. At first I was hesitant to wear it, but it matched my dress perfectly and I was running short on time to make a wardrobe change.

"Rose!" Molly called from the bottom of the stairs. "Hurray up, now!"

"I'll be there in a moment!" I called back as I fidgeted with the clasp of my necklace. I didn't even glance at myself in the mirror before running down the hall.

"Robert is waiting outside with the car!"

"I'm right here, Molly." I dropped the hem of my skirt to the floor once I reached the bottom step.

"Go, go, go!" She squealed as she swatted me on the rear with her fan. I glared back at her as she held the fan over her smile and slipped back into the parlor. I didn't know why she was so excited. It's not like Robert was professing his love for me or something. She and Harriet were in the parlor getting ready for a tea party they were having with some ladies from down the street. They were well aware I had no interest in joining. Although they did make note that a cousin of Robert's might be stopping by and Molly was convinced she and I would become fast friends.

The morning sun blinded me as I walked out into the busy streets of New York. I squinted until I found Robert standing on the street curb holding the door open with a smile. Howard sat in the driver's seat. Robert smiled a boyish grin when he found my gaze.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he grinned. I wished I had a fan to playfully swat him on the arm, but instead I rolled my eyes and quickly climbed into the car.

"Nervous?" He asked once we were situated in the back of the car. Howard's green eyes could be seen in the rearview mirror as he drove through the city.

"Yes," I breathed and noticed I was clutching my gloves rather than wearing them. Once again Robert grinned at my discomfort. I silently slipped them on. "So what is the name of this gentleman?"

"Phillip von Strutton. He's a person friend of my father's and the Rockefellers. A bit of a pompous fellow but a genius none the less."

"And why would he have interest in letting a woman like myself work at his fine institute?" It was a bit late to be asking this question, but I was curious.

"He likes having his staff resemble the beauty of the art." I felt myself blushing as we turned onto 53rd Street. I avoided his gaze.

"Don't worry. You'll be just fine," he quickly added and reached across the aisle to give my hand a squeeze. For wanting to break the tension, he simply was making things worse.

The car soon came to a stop and Howard climbed out to open the door. I grasped his hand and I joined him on the street. "I didn't get the chance to properly great you this morning, Miss Dawson." Howard kissed my gloved hand.

"Oh Howard, always a charmer," I laughed. "Good morning, Howard."

"Good morning, Miss Dawson." He grinned as he let go of my hand and reached to close the door. Robert was already waiting anxiously at the front door of the museum. "Don't want to keep Mr. Atwood waiting, do we?"

"As if we could ever keep up with him."

"I'll be back in a hour to pick you two up. Best of luck." He closed the door behind him as he started the engine. I watched him inch his way down the busy street.

"C'mon, Rose!" Robert couldn't seem to contain his excitement.

"Why are you so excited?" I asked as I walked through the doorway. I had been to this museum once before, but the sight of it still took my breath away. The morning light filled the gallery in such a way that every piece appeared to be illuminated against the tall white walls. We were only in the lobby, but I found myself beaming.

We walked up to the front desk and Robert asked the young woman for von Strutton. She didn't look much older than me, but her stiff clothing and attitude said otherwise. She slowly picked up the phone.

"He'll be down in a moment," She gave Robert a week smile before going back to the newspaper sprawled out across the desk. She didn't appear to be dazzled by Robert.

"Rose, this is Clara," Robert gestured towards the stiff mess sitting at the front desk. For claiming that his staff needed to be as beautiful as the art, Clara was a far stretch. "Clara, Rose will joining the staff here. I'm sure you girls will get along just fine." Robert was pretty certain I was getting this position.

"Pleasure," she gave me the fakest smile I had ever seen. I didn't know if I should have been appalled or returned the plastic gesture.

After an awkward moment of standing around in the lobby, an older gentleman finally emerged with his arms wide open.

"Robert!" The man called out and gave Robert a grand hug. "It's nice to see you, son. You're looking so professional these days; I might even mistake you for your father." The thin old man's laugh echoed through the gallery. One would have thought he was three times his size with a voice like that.

"Oh I'm certain my father looks much more professional than me." Robert laughed as von Strutton let him go.

"And you must be the Miss Dawson I've heard so much about," von Sturtton had turned his attention to me. "Alfred was not joking when he said you were as a precious as a porcelain doll."

"Please to meet you, Mr. von Strutton," I decided to use my manners for once and gave him a nice little curtsy.

"Oh, please. Call me Phillip. My surname is such a mouthful." His hair was balding, but a broad white handlebar mustache nearly covered his entire mouth.

"Dear Rose, Robert tells me that you are fascinated with art." Phillip directed us up the stairs. I tried not to get too distracted by all the art surrounding me. I could have stayed in here for days and never get bored. It was all so stunning.

"Yes, I adore the work of Claude Monet, van Gogh, as well as the up and coming work of Pablo Picasso."

"Ah yes," Phillip clapped his hands in delight as he reached the second floor of the building. "All wonderful artist."

I finally noticed Robert beneath all the fantastic works around me. He was watching me intently.

"What?" I asked as we rounded the corner.

"I like seeing you happy." He smiled.

"Happy?" I laughed. "I'm ecstatic! This is wonderful." Robert's boyish grin and bright eyes fit his face perfectly. He looked like a piece of art himself that could be framed and tacked to the wall to be cherished for centuries.

"I think this might be of some interest to you, Miss Rose." Phillip beamed as he lead Robert and I into the room at the end of the hallway. My heart began to swell when we entered the room. If Robert hadn't grabbed my hand at the last second, I probably would have fallen.

Hanging in front of me was Claude Monet's "Water Lilies". I couldn't believe my eyes. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. _Look at his use of colors_, a voice echoed somewhere in the back of my mind. _Mr. Big Artiste, do I wish you could see this, _I smiled to myself as I stood as close as I could do the painting. "This is magnificent."

Phillip showed us around the rest of museum, making sure to hit all the key spots such as van Gogh's "Starry Night" and there was even a small gallery of Pablo Picasso. I was so overwhelmed with the beauty of everything around me, I eventually had to sit down just to take it all in.

"So what do you think, Miss Rose?" Phillip asked as he brushed some imaginary lent off his shoulder. "Would you like to join me here?"

"You're asking me?" I tugged at my gloves nervously. "But aren't I the one who's applying for the position?"

Phillip let out a loud laugh. "Simply your reaction to the museum alone would get you hired," I know my face was nearly as red as my hair. "You really do have a passion for the arts that should be displayed to the people. They would love to learn from you."

I glanced at Robert who was sitting next to me. I couldn't believe it. I was already getting the dream job and once I've earned enough money, maybe I could go to university and study art. I was so delighted I couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm going to assume that's a 'yes', Rose. Am I correct?" Robert laughed.

"Of course!"

"Wonderful!" Phillip von Strutton's laugh echoed through the halls once more.

When we arrived home, Molly and Harriet's tea party was well on its way. Robert planned on stopping by his office before dinner and I tried my best to slip past the parlor going unnoticed. Molly called for me from behind the cracked door.

"Guess we weren't silent enough," Robert mumbled so the women wouldn't hear past the door.

I let out a sigh. "Time for me to join the other ladies for tea time in the parlor. Maybe we'll have some crumpets!" I used my best British accent. You would think it would be a lot better considering how long I had been in London.

Robert chuckled softly. "Then you'll go out into the yard for some cricket."

"Let's hope not," I laughed. "I'm terrible at cricket."

"Rose, darling! Come in here, please!?" Molly called yet again.

"I'll leave you to your tea party. Save me a cookie?" He winked as he turned to head to the kitchen. "Actually," he stopped in his tracks. "There's been something I've been meaning to ask you."

The smile that had been on my face the entire day suddenly dropped. What was on Robert's mind? Please don't let him profess his love for me here. That is the last thing I need.

"Do you have any family besides your mother?"

"No," The question threw me off completely. "And I don't even know where my mother is."

"Any Dawsons?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Well, thi–" At that moment, the front door swung open and a young blonde woman dramatically entered the house.

"That was THE worse taxi ride ever. I am so glad to finally be on solid ground again." Her hat was askew on her blonde head and she had her dress bunched in her free hand. She used the other one to hold herself against the doorway.

"Wendy." Robert face turn completely somber as if a ghost had just walked in the door.

"Hello, Robert," Wendy sneered once she gathered her bearings. "And you must be Rosie."

"Rose." I corrected her.

"So glad to finally meet you," she gave me a brief hug. "I've heard so much about you."

"It seems that I'm the talk of the town these days." I found myself think out loud.

"You're the first new face we've had in months, and Aunt Harriet adores you." Wendy gave me a huge smile as pulled off her hat.

"Wendy? Is that you?" Harriet called from inside the parlor.

"Yes, Aunt Harriet! I'll be in in a minute!" She removed her coat and threw it and her hat on a chair. This woman seemed to have forgotten everything she learned in finishing school. She was my kind of girl.

"Robert dear," Wendy obnoxiously batted her lashes at him. "Would you please go put some more tea in the kettle? I'd like a fresh pot while we discuss our latest knitting projects."

"Nope. I'm going to the office. Goodbye, Rose." He quickly left the hall.

"What a prick." She mumbled.

"Shall we?" She held out her arm with a smile.

I didn't have the faintest idea of who this woman was, but I took it and we walked into the parlor together anyway.

**N/A: As usual I could tell you all sorts of excuses to why I haven't updated, but really I'm just a lazyass. A few things about this chapter: so the museum they're at is actually "The Museum of Modern Art" in NYC, but it wasn't built until 1929… so we're just going to ignore that little fact. Also, lining up Jack and Rose's times and dates is really confusing so if I screw that up, I apologize. Next chapter will be up sooner than later hopefully. REVIEW! Love you all lots.**


	9. Chapter 9

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 9**

_**May 1**_

_**Jack**_

For once I wasn't woken by obnoxious car horns; instead I woke to a tongue excitedly attacking my face.

"Ah, Marley!" I laughed which made her lick my face even more. I hadn't even opened my eyes yet to the morning sun. I managed to snatch her by the muzzle with my eyes still closed, and once I finally opened them, I met her dark brown ones. She did not look very happy being contained. She tried to stick her tongue through her lips, to keep kissing me with her mouth bound shut, but could only lick her wet nose.

"Okay, girl. I'll let you go if you promise to keep that tongue to yourself." I let her go once she began to whine. We had a brief staring contest. Her brown muzzle was graying, but her eyes were wild. She tried to lick me on last time before running out the open door, nearly tripping over her long ears. This dog had a personality, I'll say.

I threw off my sheet and stretched in the morning sun. I couldn't even remember the last time I slept that well. I sure could get used to sleeping on a mattress instead of a park bench. I finally got a good look of the room considering last night I stumbled in here a little more than drunk.

I noticed my jacket and newspapers were on the lone dark dresser, along with a clean pair of clothes nearly folded. The lace curtains matched the folder quilt in the corner, sitting on an old rocking chair. This was clearly a guest room. Although I did notice that there a few woman's clothes in the wardrobe. They must have belonged to Wendy whenever she stayed here. I could smell coffee brewing from down the hall. No wonder Marley wanted me awake. The idea of a homemade breakfast was intoxicating.

I slipped out of bed and pulled on the clothes that were laid out for me. They were a little big, but I didn't mind. It was great to finally me out of my street clothes. I tried to fix up my hair, but my bed head was too much for the comb I found. I tucked a cigarette behind my ear.

I followed my nose down the hall and into a small kitchen. A woman with long light hair had her back to me as she scrubbed in the sink. There was a single place setting on the small table. I didn't want to be rude or startle her, so I cleared my throat which sent Marley's head up from her dog bed in the corner of the room.

She glanced over at Marley and then over her shoulder toward me. "Did you sleep well, Jack?"

"Yes, thank you, Miss –" I realized I didn't know her name. I didn't even know Chuck's last name.

"Addie," she smiled as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Please sit. I don't want all this food to go to waste. Charlie's already downstairs. He woke late and didn't have time to eat much."

Work. I was so overwhelmed with their home that I had completely forgotten about work.

"Eat," she said as if she had read my mind. I sat. "Jamison knows you're going to be a bit late. I asked him if I could borrow you for the morning."

She was beautiful. Her long hair was pulled back in a braid that curled at the end. The strawberry blonde color fit her rosy cheeks perfectly.

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you need me for, Miss Addie?" I asked as she placed some toast and jam on my plate.

"We're going down to the orphanage. Wendy will be joining us a little later," She poured a cup of coffee for me. "Don't worry. You'll be back to work after lunch."

What could she possibly need me to help her out with at the orphanage? Was I going to have to dance or sing a song for the kids? I mean, I knew a jig or two but not well enough to sing in front of an entire group of kids.

"Charlie's working and all the boys ran off before I could ask." Once again she read my mind. "I need some strong hands to help move furniture. Plus, I figure this could go to part of your rent."

I nodded as I wolfed down my toast. It was fantastic. Who would have thought that burnt bread could taste this good?

She took of her apron and threw it over her chair before taking a seat. I had to look over the small flower centerpiece to see her face. Lilies of the valley.

"Today's May Day," I thought out loud. Her eyes sparkled from the other side of the table. "When I lived in Paris, I loved watching loved one's exchange flowers."

"Did you not celebrate before you lived in Paris?" she was staring at the lily on the table.

"It was never a big deal in the town where I grew up, but my parents would sometimes celebrate it by picking wildflowers from the fields. While I was in France, it was a much bigger deal."

"Charlie usually gets two or three baskets full of sweets. Sometimes they leave a bone for Marley." She watched me carefully as I finished my toast. "Charlie never catches the kids who put them there even though they always pull open the pub door and stick their tongues out at him. The neighbor kids always like to have fun with him."

"Maybe he just wants to be a kid too." I smiled.

"They really like playing with Marley. Even though she is getting old, she still plays like a pup." She was deep in thought. I noticed the dark circles around her eyes. The kettle began to hiss, snapping her back to reality.

"We should get going." She quickly stood and turned off the stove.

Old Marley's long ears dragged across the sidewalk, and her nose was glued to the ground. "She likes to think she's Sherlock Holmes." Addie smiled.

The three of us made our way down the busy streets of New York. It was only a little past nine, but the city was already wide awake.

"Can Marley's little legs take this walk?" I asked watching the short dog hurry down the street.

Addie laughed as we rounded the corner. "She makes due. It's not that far."

We walked a few more blocks before when Addie and Marley came to a sudden stop. I nearly ran into Addie, but I did trip over Marley. To an average chum on the street, he wouldn't have noticed the place. The building clearly was lacking some tender, love, and care. Many shingles were missing and the shutters were crooked. It looked like a haunted house. I was waiting for a creepy door man to bring us in.

Marley ran up the old stairs and Addie followed. She ran the bell once and a middle-aged woman answered the door as I reached the top step. She only opened it enough for her head to poke out the door. Several children laughed and played loudly from inside the house.

"Miss Addie," she smiled. "Please come in."

The woman cracked the door open a little more to let us slip inside. Marley sat patiently at Addie's feet as the woman locked up the front door. The inside of the house was just as run down as the outside except the dead house was alive with children running around.

"Ms Greyson, this is Jack Dawson." Addie gestured towards me. She talked loudly over the kids. "He's a friend of Frank's."

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." I reached out to shake Ms. Greyson hand. "I hope I can be of some assistance to you today."

She took my hand and smiled. "There's some handy work that needs to be done around here. Usually Miss Addie's husband will come by and help out but–" Ms Greyson stopped herself. Had she and Addie made eye contact? "Anyway. The kitchen has a leaky faucet and several of the doors squeak. Also the tire on the truck out back is flat so we haven't been able to take the children to the park. This house needs countless repairs, but those are what I can think of for now, or at least until it starts to rain and the roof leaks again."

"Well, I'm definitely the man for the job," I put my hands in my pockets. "I grew up on a farm to manual labor should be my middle name."

"That's always good to hear." Ms Greyson smiled.

"Marley!" A kid down the hall screamed as he ran toward us at full speed. He dropped to the floor and slid on his knees until he stopped right on top of Marley. She greeted him with kisses.

"Isaac, don't rip your pants," Ms Greyson scolded. "I just patched them up last week!"

Six more kids poked their heads down the main hall, wondering what Isaac was yelling about. Once they saw Addie, they came running and joined him on the floor with Marley. Three of the older girls giggled and ducked away when they saw me.

Ms Greyson let out a sigh as all the kids piled in the foyer. Addie was laughing. I laughed with her. This was clearly going to be a day of excitement.

Somehow, us adults made our way into the backroom which looked like a pantry converted into an office. The room was as long as the desk and its chair couldn't be drawn out without hitting the door. But we managed to pile the three of us in there.

"We have twenty-three children here," Ms Greyson started as she retied the scarf around her head. "There's four bedrooms including the attic space. I sleep on the second floor with the girls and the boys all sleep in the attic. There's six to a bedroom and ten beds in the attic – currently eleven."

"Sounds like you've got your hands full." I looked at the cobwebs in the corner of the pantry.

"Well, Miss Addie is a saint. She's been helping me run this place for the past ten years. I don't know where I would be without her."

"Oh Greta. You know I would do anything to help you out," Addie brushed Greta's arm. "Where are all those clothes that were donated? I can help you organize them while Jack works on the repairs."

"I thought I was moving furniture."

"That too. The boys want to move things around in their room." Addie smiled as she shimmied behind me to open the door. "Jack, you'll find all the supplies you need in the back shed. Greta will give you the key."

She slipped out of the room and the cries of children filled it. Greta gave me a quick rundown of the house and my tasks once more before she left me to find the shed and get to work.

A handful of kids were playing in the tiny backyard. The lawn was shadowed by the neighboring buildings. I stepped over blocks and even a game of Marbles.

"Who are you?" A boy that looked no older than four asked. He sucked on his thumb and sat on the first step of the shed.

I kneeled down so I was on his level. I noticed that he had a large burn scar across his baby face. "My name's Jack," I held out my hand. "Now I'd like to shake your hand but I can't properly do with your thumb in your mouth, can I?"

The boy hesitated for a second before using his free hand to shake mine. "Nice to meet you–" I changed my voice to a whisper. "Now you tell me your name."

"Nicholas." He mumbled into his thumb, fighting a smile.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Nicholas." He giggled. "There's that smile." I ruffled his curly hair as I stood. He felt his stare in my back as I unlocked the door. I found a wrench and some oil for the door. I'd save the truck for last since I'm sure I'd find plenty of other jobs as I worked my way around the house.

"Marley!" I heard the kids scream as I locked the shed again. Five of them chased her as she ran around the yard with her stubby little legs.

I ran across the yard before the kids could circle around, and slipped inside. Greta and Addie sat in the dining room, folding clothes with the help from a few girls.

"This is so pretty!" One girl squealed as she held the oversized dress up against her. She twirled in place.

"Don't you think Martha should have that now since it's a bit big for you?" Addie said as she continued to fold.

"Martha always gets the good stuff because she's the oldest," The girl pouted, but she was easily distracted by a pearl hat someone had thrown into the donations box.

I did my work in the kitchen with ease, although several boys came over to ask me what I was doing. I told them I was making sure that the Pipe Monster couldn't get into the house, but for them not to worry because he just likes to eat all the leftover cake.

"But we never get cake!" One of them cried.

"That's why we can't let him in because whenever we do have cake, he'll eat it all up!" Another said.

When I was finished I slid out from beneath the sink. They were all still watching me. I guess they didn't get visitors here very often.

"Alright, boys. Where are all the squeaky doors?" I asked grabbing the can of oil from the counter.

"My room! My room!"

"Our room first! The girls' door's don't need it."

"The bathroom needs it real bad!"

"Okay, okay," I laughed. "Gentlemen, we have some work ahead of us."

They all ran upstairs and kept looking over their shoulders to make sure I was following.

There were five doors on the second floor. Three beds rooms, one bath, and a door to the attic. I started with the first door I came to despite all the boys protests.

"I have to be fair about it," I said as I pushed open the first bedroom door. Inside, two girls were playing with their dolls. They stopped when they noticed me and my army of boys behind me.

"Well hey there, ladies," I smiled as I started to oil the door. "My name's Jack and I'm sure you know all my men here."

The girls still said nothing.

"Dolls are so stupid." I heard one boy tell another. The girls began to flush.

"Ladies, your dolls are lovely. What are their names?"

Once again they said nothing, but this time they smiled.

"Next room, boys!"

We worked our way around the hall in no order. The boys kept pointing out which doors needed it the most and which floor boards creaked the loudest. The last door was the other girls' room.

I gave the door a soft knock. "Housekeeping." I said in the highest voice I could manage. The boys all laughed. There was no answer so I knocked again.

"Just go in."

"No one's in there."

"We have to be gentlemen about this. You can just barge into a lady's room uninvited."

But as I spoke, the door did open just a crack and a dark eye peeked through the crack.

"Why hello there, miss," I grinned. "I'm here to do some maintenance. Do you mind if I come in?"

As she opened the door further, I was glad Henry was holding the oil because standing the doorway was my best girl.

Cora.

**A/N: Chapter 11 will be on the same date which I've been anticipating for a while. I'm excited. I hope you guys are too. REVIEW PLEASE.**


	10. Chapter 10

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 10**

_**April 27, 1912**_

_**Rose**_

Could I love Robert? Could I let myself fall in love with someone who wasn't the one I truly wanted? Jack wasn't coming back. I had to accept that. But would marrying Robert fill that void that Jack left me with?

This was one of the rare times I let myself think of him and my future without him. I still like to imagine he's watching over me, that Jack is actually walking beside me on the street and smiling in the morning sun. I try to picture his face but as the days go by, sometimes it fades. Other times, in my dreams, I can see him clearly. I glance over at the wardrobe where I knew "The Heart of the Ocean" sat in a hat box shoved in the deepest corner. It was slowly burning a hole through the box and then the wood. I needed to get it out of my life, but it reminded me of Jack and the drawing. I feel myself crossing my legs as I think of that moment. But once I realize what I'm doing, my legs snap back, flat on my bed. I continue to stare at the reflected light from the crystal chandelier. I fidget with the hem of my nightgown.

My face was damp from letting myself cry while I thought about Jack. He wanted me to live on without him, but I still felt like marrying someone else would be betraying him. I was Rose Dawson after all.

But I was widowed.

I groaned loudly in frustration and pulled my pillow over my face.

Why did it matter anyway? Why did I need to get married? I was working at the museum now and I've been thinking about joining a theater group. I was being my own person finally. I didn't need a man.

I thought of Wendy. She was an independent woman who was happily married. She worked two jobs and still found time to make love to Sam. Could I be as strong as her and let a man back into my life, and still be able to dictate myself?

_Rose, stop thinking so much. You're only working yourself up. _

I thought of my mother who was the weakest woman I knew. She fell to pieces with my father died, not because he was gone, but because our wealth was gone. She wanted to marry me off for her own reasons. She had no right. It was the no longer the 1800s. I didn't have a dowry. I was so glad to be away from mother. I hope she thought I was dead. But I also felt some remorse. Maybe I should let her know I'm alive, but want nothing to do with her? But she would try so hard to pull me back…

I groaned into the pillow again. I was going in circles and getting nowhere.

But could I learn to love Robert as more than a friend? As more than the son of the family that was fostering Molly and myself? It didn't seem right. But then again, nothing seemed right anymore. Everything just was.

I finally got out of bed once the sun was poking directly through the curtains and into my eyes. I had promised Robert I would meet him for brunch today when really all I wanted to do was to go catch a nickelodeon, and then maybe stop by Central Park to feed the ducks. I needed to get out of this house.

Once I was finally dressed, I headed downstairs to find Molly and Harriet gossiping in the kitchen about yesterday's tea party.

"Your niece Wendy is wonderful," Molly dried a plate. "I wish my son had been lucky enough to marry someone as great as her."

"Well you could always marry Rose and your son," Harriet smiled over her tea cup as I walked into the kitchen. I reached for an apple off the table.

"Oh gosh no. Rose is too much of a loose cannon for him." She laughed.

"Don't mind me," I smiled as I took a seat on the window seat. "Please continue to talk about me in the third person."

"Isn't she such a riot?" Molly rolled her eyes while Harriet laughed.

"What did you think of Wendy, Rose?" Harriet asked. "You two got along rather swimmingly I think."

I shrugged and tried to hide my smile as I bit into the green apple.

"Oh, Rose loved her, that's for sure. The two have the same fire in them." Molly pushed the curtains back even further letting the morning sun pool onto the wood floor.

"Wendy definitely is her own spirit. She gives Robert so much trouble though. They've always been competitive toward one another."

"Well Robert is the baby of all the cousins, isn't he?"

All the cousins? How many Atwoods were there?

"Yes, but Wendy and Frank are the only ones we see these days. Everyone else moved our west."

"Shame. We could have had a grand old time with the whole gang!" Molly placed another dried plate on the stack. "Say, where's Alfred?"

"He's still in bed. Howard and I are taking him to the doctor's later this morning." Harriet took another sip of her tea, avoiding eye contact with Molly and myself.

What went unsaid was that they were taking Alfred to get blood pumped out of his lungs. He was only at the early stages, but Harriet and Alfred wanted to take all precautions.

Molly turned to me. "What are you plans for the day? I was thinking about stopping by the orphanage."

"The orphanage?" I asked. I would much rather hang out with some kids than go to brunch.

"Harriet's childhood friend Greta runs the place. She's always looking for help."

"Can you believe that I was once babysitting Greta myself?" Harriet laughed. "But she does have Addie – bless her soul – but even so, they're always work to be done." Harriet washed the remains of her tea out of her cup and added it to the clean stack of plates on the counter. I always appreciated Harriet for cleaning up after herself even though she did have housekeeping. "We're trying to get Robert's company to give us a large donation. Maybe even a donation from the Hockleys' if they're so willing to take part."

"Don't get your hopes too high on the Hockleys," Molly glanced toward me. "Plus, I really don't want have to deal with them any further than I already have."

"Molly, I know how you two feel about Cal," Like Molly, Harriet glanced toward me. I avoided eye contact with both of them. I hid my face in the green apple yet again. I wish it had been red so my burning cheeks would blend in. I wanted to be invisible as they talked about Cal. "But the Hockleys are one of the wealthiest in Pennsylvania. It would be a real honor to get a donation from them."

"Well you're really going to have to twist their necks to get it."

"Then hopefully Robert can help us out. I'm sure plenty would be willing to donate if Alfred showed his face. And maybe our friend von Strutton can help out too." Harriet said, putting an end to the conversation.

I rode with Howard and the Atwoods on their way to the doctor. Molly decided to spend the day finding out the details about her renovations back home. But neither of us wanted to go back. We enjoyed the company we had made here. This felt like home now.

Robert said he would meet me outside a particular café near Central Park. Howard apparently knew exactly where he meant. I remember Wendy noting that she worked as a waitress in a café near Central Park. Was it the same one? I wouldn't mind spending the morning in the company of the mouthy Wendy, gossiping about her cousin.

I nervously spread my dress out on my knees, pushing out the wrinkles. I wore a hat today that felt uncomfortably heavy on my head. Maybe I could talk Robert into going for a stroll in the park instead of brunch. It really was a beautiful day after all.

"Did Robert say that he was meeting you in front of Wendy's café? Or the other down the street?" Harriet asked me, but loud enough for Howard to hear through the open window. We were slowing in front of a small café with a large front patio decorated in vines.

Considering their relationship, I'd imagine it was the one that Wendy didn't work at, but I wasn't positive.

"Don't worry, ma'am," Howard changed gears and continued down the road. "I see him down the street."

Alfred coughed loudly across from me. Harriet patted him on the back and gave me a sad smile. She was trying so hard to cover her fear. I wanted to tell her I know how it feels to lose your beloved, but now wasn't the time. Alfred was still breathing. They still had time together.

I saw Robert standing in front of another café that wasn't nearly as nicely decorated as the one further down the street. He was pacing the sidewalk but a smile grew when he saw Howard.

But Robert was the last of my concerns. I suddenly couldn't breathe and a deep shiver ran through my core. There in the window – I could have sworn a saw a ghost. Was it just someone who looked like him? Was my mind playing tricks on me? Was I going crazy?

There in the window I saw the face of my Jack. He looked alive and well, not frozen on the side of a door. There was color in his face and brightness in his beautiful eyes. It was only a glimps, a flash of light, but I saw him. The ghost of my Jack.

Maybe he really was walking around the street with me, a ghostly hand that guided me through life.

My stomach was doing flips and I still couldn't breathe. Was I going crazy?

"Rose, darling, are you alright?" Harriet's voice was full of concern. "You look as if you had just seen a ghost."

I slowly pulled myself back together after a loud cough from Alfred brought be back to reality. It couldn't have been Jack. Jack was dead. He was gone.

I found my feet on the pavement with Robert's hand in mine.

"Sorry about the mix up. For some reason I thought you thought we were visiting Wendy. But we have reservations down the street." Robert's voice was suddenly full of concern "Rose, you look pale. Are you alright?"

"Aren't I always pale?" I smiled, hoping some color would return to my cheeks. Robert eased.

"You look wonderful as usual," He kissed my hand as I tried to swallow down the bile. I was betraying Jack by being with Robert. I couldn't do this. Not here. Not now.

But just like I had done up until recently in my life, I let another person direct me. Without thinking, I was already in Robert's arm as we walked down the street toward the other café. Not only had I left the ghost of Jack behind me, I left a piece of my heart with him.

**A/N: AWW THINGS KEEP CONNECTING. THE TENSION. THE SUSPENSE. YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER. BWHAHA. But seriously. I really appreciate you guys and your reviews. Keep being awesome. THANKYOUUUU.**


	11. Chapter 11

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 11**

_**Jack**_

_**May 1, 1912 (Part 2)**_

I don't know who was more surprised to see the other. But I didn't hesitate a second to throw my arms around her and spin her around the room until we were both dizzy.

"Uncle Jack!" She laughed and held on tightly to my neck. I squeezed her little frame so hard she could have fractured into pieces. I was so happy to see her.

I finally set her down and looked straight into her tear filled eyes.

"How's my best girl?" I asked as I pushed a stray hair out of her eyes. She gave me a sad smile and began to sob. I pulled her into my chest and tried to hold my own tears back. "You're alright. Uncle Jack is here."

I noticed my army was staring from outside the door. They all whispered amongst each other while Cora cried.

I was going to adopt her. She, Rose, and myself would move into a grand old house once I became a famous artist and we would dance all the time. Rose and I would watch her grow up into a beautiful woman and be such proud parents. I didn't care how far away from reality that dream was. It was worth dreaming about.

Once I finally pulled myself together (Cora still had her face hidden in my neck), I turned my attention to my boys.

"Gentlemen, this is one of my best friends, Cora. She and I knew each other before she came here." The sad fact that the reason she was hear was because her father had died in the wreak. A chill ran down my spine when I noticed a familiar doll sitting on one of the beds.

"She's the new girl," Danny spoke. "She cries a lot."

"Shut up!" Simon stomped on Danny's foot. I think Simon was more concerned about offending me than hurting Cora's feelings.

"Hey boys, why don't you go ask Miss Addie what other chores need to be done." I asked, desperately waiting for them to leave so I could talk to Cora alone.

"I'll go!

"Not unless I get there first!" The mess of boys ran down the stairs.

"You cry a lot?" I asked pushing Cora out of my grasp. She nodded slowly, hiding her face behind her dark curls. "That doesn't sound like my best girl."

"I miss Daddy," she shuddered as she dry heaved her cries. I pulled her close and shushed her while stroking her hair. She suddenly looked so much younger to me. No longer was she the strong, independent girl I met on the ship. She was now a lonely, terrified six-year-old.

"I know, I know. I'll take care of you. I promise." I held her as she cried for several minutes. She must have been terrified. She lost her father and she was in a completely new world. Had Cora ever been to the States? I always wanted to know about her mother. I wanted to know everything about her. My mind traveled all over the place, coming up with options of where Cora and I could live. Where she would go to school.

I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. The boys had returned along with Addie.

"Boys, go do your chores. I need to talk to Jack alone."

"Aww, man!" They all moaned.

"Don't worry, fellas," I loosened my grip around Cora just enough to look at the boys. I gave them a hopeful smile. "I'll be out to help you out soon."

Addie asked them once again to get to their chores. They left to go upstairs or down.

Addie stepped into the room. "Cora," she asked kneeling to the floor where Cora and I sat. Well, I was more-so kneeling and Cora was standing.

"Cora, you know Mr. Dawson?" Addie asked holding a hand out to Cora. Cora turned around to face her, but her thumb was deep in her mouth. I noticed she only did that when she was nervous.

Cora slowly nodded her head, one hand still clutched the back of my shirt.

Addie looked to me for an explanation. "Cora and I met–" I stopped myself, not wanting to talk about the wreck in front of Cora.

"Cora, sweetie," This time I pulled her off me completely and held her shoulders. "I need to talk to Miss Addie alone. Can you go play with the other girls for a little bit?"

She shook her head and tried to reach for my shirt again.

"It will only be a few minutes and then I'll be right back. You can tell me all about the friends you've made here and I can tell you all about Old Marley. You like Old Marley right?"

She nodded.

"Marley's downstairs with Ms Greyson and the other girls," Addie added. "You can help them sort through the donation box and play dress up with them.

"Doesn't that sound fun?" At that moment, one of the older girls poked her head in. She looked around thirteen.

"C'mon Cora, let's go play." She stepped in the room and held out a hand.

"Cora, go play with Maggie and the other girls. They'd love to have you with them." Addie smiled. In the sunlight, I noticed the grey hairs in her strawberry blonde mane.

"I'll be right here when you get back," I stood up and held Cora's hand as I bought her closer to Maggie. "I just need a few minutes with Miss Addie. Go with Maggie."

Cora hesitated and stared at me, hard. Slowly she let Maggie lead her out of the room, but her eyes never left mine until Addie closed the door behind them.

"I know what you're thinking." Addie immediately said once the door latched closed.

"I want to adopt her." The words bubbled out of my mouth. I wasn't taking no for an answer. I would kidnapped Cora out of this place and become a fugitive if I had too.

"You can't."

"I'm going to adopt her." I began to pace the room.

"Jack. Think about this rationally." She sat down on one of the lower bunks. "You don't even have a place to stay of your own. You just started a new job. You have no money. How could you possibly raise a child?"

"I'm the only one she has." _She's the only one I have. _I needed Cora as much as she needed me. She was my hope that things would get better. That I could have a wonderful future with her and Rose if everything worked out.

"You can't get her hopes up. She has the chance to get adopted into a great family."

"I am her family!" I was nearly shouting.

"Jack." She snapped, trying to hold her own composure. "Did you meet her on the ship?"

I felt myself begin to choke up. Within the past few minutes, so many emotions ran through me: happiness, sadness, anger, confusion.

"You're not her real family. You can't just take her."

"I am her family." I clinched my fists as I paced.

"Jack–"

"I knew her father."

"Jack–"

"She knows Rose."

"Jack!" I stopped pacing and listened to my blood pumping.

I stared at the wooden floor, focusing on a knot in one of the planks. The room was so silent, I could hear Addie swallow. I closed my eyes before she began to speak. I was bracing myself. For what exactly? I knew I couldn't keep Cora. But I would come and visit her all the time until I finally could. I could visit her new family. Or once I found Rose–

I suddenly strode toward the door without waiting for what Addie had to say. I couldn't be here right now. I didn't want to accept that I couldn't keep her when we were only just reunited. I would figure out a way eventually. I just needed time to think. I would adopt her. She and I would be a family of our own.

"Tell Cora I'll be back later this evening." Somehow I managed to slip out of the front door without being seen.

I was back at work well before the lunch bell. Jamison wasn't expecting me until the early afternoon, but I didn't let him know I was back. I went straight to my station where Frank was managing it alone. Without even asking, Frank knew I wasn't in the mood to chat. We worked until lunch in silence.

I grabbed some scraps of paper I found in the lounge room and a pen. I look cover in my usual spot outside. I frantically drew Cora. I drew her small smile, the glisten in her eye when she laughed. I drew her holding the hand of her father, but I left his face blank. Was I wanting to draw my own in its place?

I drew Rose's eyes. I stared at them as if they would somehow lead me to her. I needed to see her. I needed her back in my life. I was tired of chasing the dream of her. I needed to stop stalling. If she really was Robert's mystery woman, I could at least confirm it. It was the only hint I had to find her. I was avoiding the inevitable because I didn't want to hear my deepest fear.

Could I call the Atwood's residence? Would I find Molly and then Rose?

I tore Rose's picture in frustration and dug around my pockets for a cigarette. This wasn't fair. All I wanted was my Rose and my Cora and to live happily ever after. Was it really that hard for me to be happy?

I went back inside before lunch was over to use the bathroom. The bathroom only had one toilet so I waited outside, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet to my heel. I held my papers under one arm and my other hand hung in my pocket, fingering the last, lone cigarette. I slipped it behind my ear just to give my hands something to do while I waited.

I heard the toilet flush and the door open, but my mind was elsewhere. Neither of us had been paying attention with Robert ran into me. My drawings went everywhere.

"Again?" Robert laughed at himself as he re-rolled his shirt sleeve up. "Jesus, Dawson. I can't seem to go anywhere without running into you, literally."

"Nah, it's quite alright, sir," I slowly gathered my things on the floor. Robert reached for the ripped drawing of Rose's eyes.

"Did you draw this?" He asked trying to hold the two lose pieces together.

"It's just a hobby," I tried to snatch the sketch back, but Robert wasn't letting go.

"These eyes look familiar." He said in nearly a whisper. I swallowed hard and tried to ignore the possibility that he knew Rose. I suddenly didn't want to know if she was his mystery woman or not.

"It's just a sketch," I slipped the drawing out of his hand and into the mess of them under my arm. "No one I know personally."

"Do you have any other drawings?" He asked, suddenly forgetting about the eyes. I hesitated before handing him the sketch of Cora on yesterday's news headlines. There were doodles of pigeons at the bottom of the page as well. I held my breath. I wasn't a fan of Robert looking at my work. I felt like he could see part of my soul. I didn't like being this exposed, especially to my boss.

"These are rather good," He smiled. I still couldn't breathe easy. I just wanted to take my piss and get back to work. "Much better than my own."

"You draw, sir?" I asked, honestly not caring much at all about his answer.

"I attempt to," He laughed at himself again. Did he think his own jokes were funny or was he just laughing at himself to make his misfortunes seem better? God. I really need to get out of this bad mood. I couldn't even stand myself. "You know, Dawson, we're actually looking for someone to design new models. If you can draw cars like you draw people, you would have the job."

His offer threw me off guard. I thought he was joking. He handed my back the drawing of Cora. "Think about it." He smiled and walked away as the bell rang.

Once again, the guys all headed back to Chuck's for drinks. I only followed because I was heading home. I wasn't in the mood to drink and laugh. I needed to draw all this frustration out of me.

"Just one beer, Jacky?" Willie asked as I ascended up the creaky stairs.

"Nah, no thanks guys," I kept my fast pace. "Have one for me." I closed the door behind me. No one was home. Addie and Marley must have still been at the orphanage. Chuck was downstairs. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness of the small sitting room before turning on the light. One the kitchen table sat a pile of goodies that the children had left for Chuck. He must have ran them upstairs sometime during the day. Among the pile was a dog bone with Marley's name tied to it. I noticed the lily that was still on the table buried beneath sweets and goodies.

I thought of France. I thought of lovers and flowers. I thought of Cora and Rose.

"Jacky, where you off to now?" Chuck asked from behind the bar as I ran down the stairs.

"I'm going to visit Addie." I ran past the table.

"She'll home soon, though."

"That's alright. I need to talk to Greta." I lied as I ran out the door.

I actually was going back to the orphanage but not to visit Addie. I had promised my best girl I would be back tonight, and I wasn't one to back out on a promise.

Thankfully, I got to the florist right before they closed. With the little money I had, I bought two lilies. I could have bought carnations for much cheaper, but I was sticking to tradition and my girls deserved the best. I was again thankful for not spending the last of my money on a beer.

I jotted down a quick note on some scrap paper and attached them to the flowers. They didn't have a pot to hold fresh soil, a vase to hold water, or even some wildflowers to accent them, but I knew the lilies alone would be enough.

I ran down the street heading back toward the orphanage. Much like how it was this morning, the busy city was still wide awake. I reached the front door, ready to walk inside and see my best girl, but I stopped myself. I thought back to what Addie said about getting Cora's hopes up. I would come by tomorrow after work, or maybe Sunday on my day off. I'd figure something out. I had to talk to her about what was going on. Would she understand? I hoped to God she would.

I decided to leave the lily on the front porch. Addie still hadn't left because I heard Marley barking from behind the house. I didn't sign my name. I knew she would know it was from me and who it belonged to.

I hurried away before one of the kids spotted me through the window.

My next delivery was going to be done by total chance. I found the nearest phone booth and with the little change I had left over from the flowers, I dialed the operator.

I nearly hung up the phone three times while I talked to the operator. She told me the Atwoods' address, no questions asked. Easy as pie. I had their address. It was a completely blind and bold move, but I may be one step closer to my Rose because of it.

The sun was well-past set, but the second lily still sat on the foot of my bed. I had memorized the address, but the idea of seeing my Rose again suddenly scared me. What if she didn't want me back? What if she actually was with Robert and was happy? What if she wasn't even at their house and other side of the country? But all the clues came back to Robert's family. I needed to at least check things out.

I dug my pencil deeper into the cheap paper with every stroke. The sound of the door opening and little feet padding across the wooden floor broke the silence of the apartment. Marley found me before Addie announced she was home, and Addie wasn't alone.

She was with another woman and I assumed it was Wendy.

"Marley, are you waking up Uncle Jacky?" Wendy's voice grew louder as she made her way toward my room. Marley sat waiting for her, panting happily as I scratched behind her long ear. Wendy's familiar face appeared in the doorway. She still paid full attention to Marley. "Do you like Uncle Jacky?"

Marley's long tal wiggled against my leg. "Well hello there stranger." I smiled as I leaned back on my bed.

"Who would have thought the hopeless romantic would end up in my spare bedroom." She leaned on the door frame. "I missed you today. I ran out before I got over there."

Dread filled my stomach as I thought back to the conversation Addie and I had earlier that day. "I'm sure Addie filled you in on all that."

"Briefly," she knew I wanted to change topics. "Come on out. Addie's making soup."

Marley jumped off the bed once she heard that there was food cooking in the kitchen. I placed my things on the side table and made my way down the hall. Wendy was sitting at the table, nibbling on some of the sweets left for Chuck.

"You know, I work there too so it's okay for me to eat this shit." She popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"No longer the waitresses carrying so many dishes that she can't stop to chat?" I sat across from her.

"Can't be professional all the time."

"So Wendy tells me you've got some lady problems," I glared at Wendy as Addie placed two empty bowls on the table. "Why not just date Marley?"

I barely knew either of these women and I felt as if they were my own sisters. Their pestering and nagging questions were never going to end.

"I guess you could say so. It seems like I can't tell either of you anything without you telling the other."

"That's just how women work, sweet pea." Wendy gave me a plastic smile.

"So this girl thinks you're dead." Addie leaned up again the counter as the soup cooked next to her.

Once again, I glared in Wendy's direction and she stared right back. She had no shame in telling my secrets to her friend. "That would appear to be the issue, but I might be one step closer."

"Oh really now? No longer asking pretty little waitresses to borrow their pens?" Wendy smirked, but her eyes suddenly lit up. "Wait. You're last name is Dawson, right?"

"Jack Dawson of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin." I was proud to use my entire title for once. I was proud of where I came from.

"I know that name." She looked over at Addie. "Who do we know with that name?"

Addie shrugged. "We know that name from Jack?"

"No, I know someone else with that name," she bit her lip as she stared off into space. For a split second I thought about suggesting the possibility that she knew Rose, but that would have been a shot in the dark. It couldn't hurt to ask through. I already had the Atwood's address. Maybe this could be another step in the right direction?

"Rose?" My voice cracked due to my anxiety.

"Yes! Rosie!" Wendy stood up with delight. "I had tea with her just the other day!"

"You know Rose?" I felt all the color drain out of my face. I couldn't believe it. I wanted to jump up and dance around. Swing Marley around until we were both sick.

"She's staying with my Aunt Harriet–" Once again her face dropped as realization came over her. "Oh my god. The lily. The second lily sitting on your bed!"

Addie laughed as she too pieced all the facts together. "Damn, Jacky. You're quite the romantic."

"You have to go to her!" Wendy ran to my side of the table and pulled me out of my seat. I felt lightheaded. I needed to sit back down. Was this actually happening? Had I finally found my Rose?

"But I thought she was with Robert – his mystery girl." I'm surprised I could make out the words. I tried to sit back down.

Wendy laughed as she pulled on me even harder out of the chair. She pulled me away from it to make sure I couldn't sit back down. "Robert is head over heels about her, but she obviously doesn't feel the same. As your waitress, it is my duty to fix this. You will be reunited with Rose."

Before I knew it, I was standing outside a Victorian style house with Addie, Wendy, and even Marley pulling me along.

"You have to do this," Wendy handed me the second lily. She pointed out to the upstairs window on the side of the house. There was a light on.

"I can't do this," I said as I tried to break from the girls' grasp. But they weren't having it. "She's going to think I'm a ghost!"

"Not if she knows that we've seen you too," Addie tightened her grip on my arm. "You live with me for Christ's sake. I'm not crazy enough to house a ghost."

"I'm going to ring the doorbell and ask her to come out." Wendy approached the stairs with me still locked in her arm.

"No!" I called out. "I don't want the whole house knowing who I am. And I could lose my job if Robert knew I was here to serenade his lady friend."

Wendy moaned as she pulled me and Addie toward the side of the house. "Fine. You can be pathetic about this and throw rocks at her window."

"Why not just leave the flower on the porch?" Addie suggested as we all stared up into Rose's window.

Suddenly the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet filled my mind: "But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?/It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!"

I find myself reciting the line under my breath, now waiting for Rose to pull back the heavy curtains. This is what I had been waiting for. I was finally going to see her. You can't chicken out, Jacky. Not now. You're so close.

But right as I was about to throw the first stone, Marley let out a deep bark. The neighbor's cat scared her and she wasn't backing down until the intruder was gone.

"Shit!" Wendy reached for Marley's collar and the dog continued to bark. "She'll wake the whole neighborhood if she hasn't' already."

"Leave the flower and let's get out of here, Romeo." Addie ran around to the front of the house and put the flower on the doorstep.

We were away from the Atwood's as quickly as we had gotten there. I still couldn't wrapped my mind around the idea that Rose would now know I was alive. Or would she think it was some sort of sick joke?

"We'll figure this out. You and Rosie will live happily ever after." Wendy smiled as she dipped her spoon into her soup. "You're taking advice from two married women. We don't stray you wrong."

I had now given the job of getting Rose back to Addie and Wendy. The rest of this plan was in their hands. I just kept my fingers crossed everything would work out instead of going horribly wrong.

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so long, guys. I just really wanted to fit all the May Day stuff into no more than 2 chapters. Dunno when chapter 12 will be up, so hopefully this one can hold you guys over for a while. I've got to pay attention to my other fic. So REVIIEWWW and tell me what you think. *muwaah***


	12. Chapter 12

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 12**

_**May 1, 1912**_

_**Rose**_

I walked around the museum with my arms crossed behind my back. I wasn't due to give a tour for another hour, and I noticed how easily I blended in with all of the other girls linked in arms with a man who claimed to know so much more about art than their little belles. I only stood out because I walked alone.

Walking around the museum alone was my favorite thing to do. Of course, I enjoyed educating the people about ar t–despite the occasional pompous male claiming I know nothing. My feet guided me into Monet's room. I had no control over them. My eyes were focused on all the other fantastic pieces around me, but subconsciously I was always drawn to that room.

"Water Lilies." I squeezed my arms still crossed behind my back. Days like this when the sun shone through the window, I thought of finding Jack standing there examining brush strokes. He'd hear me walk in and then turn with a grin on his face.

"Rose, Rose! Isn't this beautiful?" He would nearly squeal with glee and then hover his hands over the delicate strokes. "This is just magnificent. What I would pay to own this."

"What you would pay to be taught by Monet," I would say with a smile. I'd approach him from behind and wrap my arms around his waist, listen to his beating heart. "Oh Jack."

A series of large _bongs_ brought me back to reality. I glanced out the window toward the steeple down the street. With a loud sigh, I decided it would be best to take my lunch before my next tour. Or better yet, before I found myself lost in another dream about my hus b– I wasn't a married woman. What was I thinking? _I do believe you're blushing. _

I hurried out of the room.

That evening, I pulled the antique brush through my red locks. Actually it was more like viscously dragged. I had been pacing earlier, running my fingers through my hair with the pins still in. It was a matted mess by the time I sat down on the edge of my bed to gather myself.

Jack was dead. He wasn't coming back. It was alright for me to move on. But I promised myself I would be an independent woman. Could I still do that if I let Robert pull me around on his arm? Robert and I were getting too close despite how Molly and the Atwoods felt. I needed to break things off. I couldn't do this. I needed to learn to be Rose again. Just take one day at a time.

I slipped on my satin nightgown and plopped down at my vanity. My cheeks were flushed from frustration and my eyes were stained pink from the strain of trying not to cry. I took a deep breath and began to brush.

"Rose," The voice was followed by a soft knock. I froze. What on earth was Robert doing here? He never came to my door, especially at an hour like this. "Rose, can I speak with you?" I glanced at myself in the mirror and down at my nightgown. He couldn't see me like this: flustered and indecent.

"Just a moment," My voice cracked and I quickly pulled my robe over my shoulders. I push my hair out of my face with a comb. I slowly opened the door to find Robert leaning on the door frame in plaid flannel pajamas. He reminded me of a little boy on Christmas: anxious. Color immediately filled his face and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. I didn't know you were indecent." He pushed himself off the door frame and glanced down the hall.

"No, it's alright," My subconscious was scolding me for my terrible good judgment. "You already have me out here."

"Oh," He glanced down the hall again; worried his mother would find him. "Well, I wanted to ask you something."

"Okay. Ask me." I chuckled. "Or are you going to ask if you can ask me a question next?"

He hesitated before letting out a heavy sigh. "Sorry I'm so pathetic at this."

"At what?" What was he getting at? It was nearly time for bed and here he was at the door in his pajamas asking me silly questions. What could possibly be this important?

"I wanted to ask you if you'd like to join me somewhere."

"Somewhere? You might as well have asked me to join you anywhere." I wondered if my sarcasm was sounding too much like flirting. If I giggled, he'd realize it was a joke but would think it was flirting. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut from now on.

"I can't say too much because things are still being planned even though it's going to be soon," He let out a heavy sigh. "But I was wondering if you'd like to join me to a charity event."

Charity event? I had been to enough parties when I was younger to know where this was going.

"My family and co-workers are hosting. My family is very dedicated to helping the orphanage and other charities. My cousin Wendy and her friend Addie take care of all the children. Every year, my family and I host a charity event for the orphanage under our name. Not only does it bring in money for the kids, but also brings business to the factory. It's usually a fantastic turn out and the community donates a great amount. It's wonderful seeing the good in people and their concerns for others in need . . . and I was really hoping you would be my date . . . ."

He wanted a date for the ball. He wanted me to be his Cinderella. He was a deep shade of scarlet by the time he finished. Why did he always act so awkward around me when he was at the top of the list to talk about among the young bachelorettes in the tri-state area? But he wasn't getting my glass slipper. I had to let him down easy. But I don't think he was used to rejection despite how nervous he may have been to ask me.

"Robert," I sighed, still blocking the crack in the door. I hoped he noticed my body language. I wasn't budging. But before I could decline, Molly's bedroom door flew open. She had her hair in rags and one arm in her satin robe. Robert held his breath as she walked across the hall and into the bathroom, completely oblivious to the presence of a male near my bedroom.

"I better go before she notices me. We'll talk more about this later, alright?"

"Robert - " But he didn't let me finish and grabbed my hand.

"Goodnight, Rose." He kissed my hand before disappearing down the stairs. I stamped my foot down. Why didn't I just decline right away. I could go find him, but we would get in just as much trouble for him coming to my room. I wanted to scream. I didn't know when I would see him again due to our schedules and he didn't even tell me when this ball was. "Soon," he said. That could mean as early as tomorrow.

I closed the door and threw myself down on my bed. But going to a ball would be fun . . . . No. I'm starting to sound like Mother. I hadn't thought of her in days. I prayed I would never see her again. We were both better this way. I'd be with Molly and Mother would have Cal. Cal . . . another face I couldn't think about.

I pulled the comb out of my hair and let it fan onto the bed. My red mess was just back to the way it was earlier that night–a mess. I listened to my breathing and watched my chest rise and fall, wondering if my heart was still beating. Oh Jack. Get out of my head! I rolled over and buried my face into a pillow. I listened to my breathing again, but quickly realized the sound wasn't alone.

It must have been right outside my window –a dog was barking. A stray probably. But then I heard voices. I climbed out of bed and pushed back the heavy curtains.

Nothing. The street was empty and the streetlight revealed nothing unusual in the shadows of night. But I heard voices. I know I did. I wrapped my arms around myself to hold my robe close to my body as I hurried down the stairs.

"Rose, darling," Harriet sat downstairs in the parlor in her robe reading a book. "Are you alright?"

I said nothing as I flipped on the light, pulled open the front door, and looked around. Nothing.

"Rose, what's going on?" Harriet stood behind me and pulled the door open further. "Why would we have a visitor at this hour?"

I was about to blame my imagination for this nonsense when I saw it. There on the front porch sat a simple white lily. My entire body was shaking as I reached from the note beneath the flower.

"How strange," Harriet looked down the street. "What does it say?"

"'Make it count'." I read with trembling hands.

Jack. Everything turned black.

**A/N: Sorry for such the long wait. Life has been intense, and this semester is going to be the death of me, I swear. It's a bit of a filler chapter, but the ball is finally rolling. I'm excited to write more. Don't know when more will be up, but keep up with my life and shit on my tumblr and twitter (links in my profile). Review and let me know what you think. I love you all. Peace, Mel. **


	13. Chapter 13

**My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 13**

_**May 5, 1912**_

_**Jack**_

"Come on, Jacky. You have to look good for the rest of us." Addie tugged at my suit coat and tried to let out the wrinkles.

"When did this suit fit Chuck? When he was a kid?" I asked and pushed back my hair as Addie and Wendy tried their best to make Chuck's old suit fit me.

"No, actually," I winced as Addie poked me with a pin. She also had several in her mouth. "Our wedding day was the last time he wore it."

"Fella's put on some pounds since then," Wendy chuckled. Tonight was the big night. Tonight I was going to see Rose. I could barely contain myself but I didn't want the ladies to see just how excited I was. They would make me feel like such a wussy. Tear down my manly physique with shrills of excitement. The last thing I needed was for them to make me even more nervous.

"Don't you two need to get ready?" I asked.

"Oh don't you worry about us. You're going to see Rose tonight and it's going to be wonderful."

"Are the children going to be at the event?" I asked hoping they didn't hear the anxiousness in my voice. I tried my best to distract myself by watching Addie pin my pants.

"Your precious Cora will be in the hands of Ms Greyson tonight," Wendy said before falling into the chair next to her. She held her hand over my belly. For a second, I remembered Frank saying something about her possibly being pregnant. If she was, she wasn't showing at all. "Plus, we can't have our love story with your soon-to-be daughter running around."

"Wendy!" Addie snapped through a mouthful of pin.

I laughed. "That sounds about right."

"Oh, you, Rose, and Cora are going to make such a happy family." Wendy shrilled.

"Good thing Cora can't hear you." Addie muttered.

"Oh you're so negative, Addie. It's going to happen. I just know it."

"We have just to keep that cousin of yours out of the picture."

My tongue swelled. I couldn't believe I was competing for Rose's love with my boss who has just promoted me. I was now working steady hours in an office designing mufflers. I still didn't know much about cars but I guess I knew enough in their eyes. The fellas were ecstatic for me even though we were no longer working together. They still filled me in on all the latest over beers after work. Although, Wendy managed to let my little dilemma slip.

"So she thinks you're dead?" Frank muttered over a mouthful of pretzels.

"That's so romantic," Georges smiled.

"Yeah, death is wonderful," Seamus rolled his eyes.

"Robert isn't one to let go of crushes. You're really going to have to fight for this one."

"I know my Rose –"

"So you have total confidence she'll come back to you?" Chuck wiped off his hands with a hand towel.

I nodded firmly. "I'm going to show myself to her at the charity banquet."

"Did you consider the fact that she might collapse in fear that she's seeing a ghost from her past?"

I had. A number of times, but I was confident this was going to work. I was going to get my flower back.

"So little cousin has no idea that you know Rose?" Frank asked.

"If anything, he just knows we have the same last name. Maybe that we were on the _Titanic_ together if Wendy managed to let that slip too." I raised my voice and glanced over at the bar where Wendy sat with her husband, Sam. She ignored me.

"Just get ready for the shock of her life, Jacky." Frank held up his glass.

"I'll drink to that."

Somehow the night was finally upon us. I stood outside the banquet hall with a little pinned to my chest. I pushed back my hair and let out a deep breath. The girls were already inside getting ready. I needed to take a moment to catch my breath. Marley sat outside with me and she tried to lick my hand every time I pulled the cigarette away from my face.

"This ain't for you, girl," I patted my free hand on her head. "Imagine you meeting your doggie husband tonight. That's how I feel." She let out a small whine and put her head back down on the concrete.

"My thoughts exactly." I exhaled and looked up at the stars. Here in New York, you could see nothing compared to the night sky on the Atlantic Ocean. I missed the open air, but not the freezing water at all. I put out my cigarette and slipped the one behind my ear into my pocket. You can do this, Jacky. It's just your Rose. Your Rose who thought you were dead for the past month. Shit.

"Jack!" Wendy poked her head outside. Her blonde hair was put up in an elegant bun and she wore a long dress. "Get in here. Stop stalling and Robert wants to see you."

"Where is he?" I asked slowly walking inside. Marley tried to follow but Wendy closed the door before she could let out a lonely howl. I wanted Marley with me for moral support.

The room was full of finely dressed people. Everyone I worked with was here along with a large handful of people I had no idea who they were. I felt underdressed in my borrowed suit. I nervously push back my hair. Robert was standing next to the punch bowl with two glasses in hand.

"Are one of those for me, boss?" I asked before slapping a hand on Robert's shoulder.

"There you are, Jack." Robert smiled when he learned his surprise guest was me. "And this drink is actually for my lady friend but she seems to have run off again. I was hoping the two of you could meet." Rose. Robert wants me to meet Rose.

"Robert!" I heard Wendy call from behind us. Even though I hadn't known Wendy that long, I could tell by the excitement in her voice this was it. "I found someone for you."

I slowly let myself turn around. There she was. My Rose. Standing right before me in an elegant dress with her long red hair held back by a butterfly comb. She was beautiful. I wanted to run to her. I wanted to give everything to her.

The blood left her face. I suddenly realized she was seeing a ghost. I was waiting for her to collapse.

"Jack Dawson, this is Rose Dawson," Robert smiled looking between the two of us. He noticed Rose's expression. "Rose, darling, are you alright?"

"She's fine, aren't you Rosie?" I asked and quickly grabbed her hand. "This is my dear cousin Rose. I haven't seen her in ages!"

Robert let out a sigh. "Long lost cousins. I knew you two had to be related someone with a name like that."

"Rose, it's me, Jack." I grabbed her pale face in my hands. "It's really me." I said in almost a whisper.

"But–" she tried to speak but I quickly hushed her.

"Robert, do you mind if Rose and I have a moment outside? She's a bit shocked. We haven't seen each other in years. You probably thought I was dead." I laughed.

Robert hesitated at first but handed the drink that was meant for Rose to Wendy. I refused to look at Wendy and the tears billowing in her eyes. '"Take all the time you need to catch up."

**A/N: Sorry for such the long wait. I've been so busy with grown up stuff. I barely have time to breathe now. I know this chapter feels a bit rushed, but I wanted the two to finally meet so we could finally get the wheels turning. Hope you enjoyed. Please review and check out my profile page for updates about me. **


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

_**Rose**_

_**May 4, 1912**_

Ever since I found that mysterious note on the front porch, I felt poorly. I couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't eat. My head was always spinning and doing summersaults. I felt like a circus performer. Sometimes I couldn't even breathe. Who would make such a sick joke like that? Or was it really Jack. No. It couldn't have been Jack. Unless Molly wrote it, but she wouldn't do that to me. Maybe my own mother, but not Molly.

It was impossible explaining to Robert what was going on. I told him I was feeling a bit low, but I would be fine before the banquet. He didn't seem to have much hope until I mentioned the banquet, then his face would light up. But for some reason, he felt this whole thing was his fault. But he didn't write the note and he didn't bring Jack back from the dead.

I played with the note with the oh-so-familiar handwriting in my hand. "Rose," There was knock on the door. It was Wendy. Over the past couple of days, she and I could have been best friends from an outsider's perspective. She had suddenly sparked an interest in my love life, as long as it was away from her cousin.

"Come in," I quickly slipped the note in the bedside table.

"How are you feeling today?" In the dim morning light, I made out her face and she had a tray of tea in her hands. She set the tray on the bed and briskfully opened the drapes. I winced at the light. "I didn't know we had a vampire living among us."

I was so grateful to have Wendy in the house. She was like a ray of sunshine, literally. She sat down on the bed next to the tray and made herself a cup. The light swarmed around her like a halo.

"How's Sam?" I asked. I had never met the man myself, but he seemed like a real treat.

"Actually, if you just got out of bed for once, you might be able to join us for lunch."

The idea of food made my stomach turn even more. "I would love to, but I have to work today."

"Are you still feeling sick?" She read my reaction to her words. I nodded, even though I was uncertain to what I was feeling. Confusion? Lost? Insane? And yet, she didn't seem to by my whole "sick" act. She knew something was wrong, but I know she didn't think I was actually ill. I was just waiting for her to spill the beans.

"Rosie, can I tell you something and you have to promise you cannot tell anyone?" Her face wasn't serious. She was delighted and dying to tell someone this secret.

"Of course, Wendy." I would have pushed the stray piece of blonde hair out of her eyes if she wasn't so far away. Just how thankful I was to have her in the house, I was just as thankful that she was around the same age as me.

"No one, especially Harriet because then she'll tell my mother."

"Wendy –"

"I'm pregnant!" She squealed silently before burying her face in the pillows. My bad mood suddenly lifted completely.

"That's fantastic!" I reached for her hand and she squeezed it tightly. "When did you find out?"

"Yesterday. The only person who knows is my friend Addie from the orphanage and Ja–"She stopped herself. "Sam. I plan to tell Sam today, and I wanted you to join us for lunch when I announced it! You know, for moral support. I'm so excited!"

I was ecstatic. "You have every reason to be! This is great, Wendy. I'm so happy for you." She reached over for a hug.

"Oh, thank you, Rose. I'm so glad you came to live with Aunt Harriet. Everything have turned out so wonderfully since you've joined our little–rather, growing!–family."

"But I couldn't possibly be there when you tell Sam the news. That's so personal and something for you to share as a family. And I have to work today."

"But you are like family, Rosie." I wanted to cry. Wendy made me feel so welcomed here. "All you and I have to do is change our names to Atwood and we'd be sisters!"

"Despite the fact that I'm a redhead and you're a blonde!"

"Oh pish posh," She waved her hand and rolled her eyes. "We're both working women. Both marr–" Once again she stopped herself, but this time she looked like a deer in headlights. I knew what she was going to say. We are both married women. Or in my case, for all she knew, never married.

"But you have some news yourself," she quickly changed topic. "I hear you have a secret suitor other than my cousin?"

This time I rolled my eyes but really my heart was jumping out of my chest. "It such is a mystery."

"Oh come on," She gave me a soft slap on the hand. "Stop acting like it's nothing. I know that's why you're in bed. None of this 'I'm feeling poorly' crap. What's got your tongue?"

So she did know the truth. But how did she know? "And it's a girl's intuition to understand other girls." She nearly read my mind. "Now spill the details."

I let out a deep sigh and reached for the lily and the note. I explained to her the event of the night, and she was beaming the whole time.

"How romantic!"

"Yeah, but my news is nothing compared to yours."

She took a sip of her tea. "Can I ask you something?" Her tone was suddenly serious.

"Do you think that your husband could be alive somewhere?"

Despite everything that had happened the past couple of days; despite all the hopes and emotions running through my body; my answer could be no other than: "No."

She took another sip of tea. "Why?"

I was surprised how well I was keeping myself together at the thought of Jack. "I watched him die."

She sipped her tea again. "Then what about this new suitor?"

"He's not real," I heard myself think out loud.

"Do you love my cousin?"

Once again, with no hesitation I said the word: "No."

"Could you ever love him?"

"Maybe one day," I replied but was really just reassuring myself. Could I love Robert?

"But you're still going to the banquet with him, right?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it."

"Great," She stood up and brought the tea with her, which, mind her, I didn't get any of. "Get ready for work, silly. In the words of my own mother, a woman must always look her best, especially in the work place. Heck, I have food stained all over me while I'm at work."

I sighed. "I'll be out soon."

She smiled and opened the door. "Oh and Rosie, remember to make it count."

That afternoon at work, Wendy's words kept ringing in my head. It was like I was my own clock tower, just taunting me with the chimes. _Make it count, make it count, make it count._

"Make it count." This time I could have sworn I heard it from inside the room, and it was in Jack's voice. But when I turned around, I saw no one but a shirt tail in the doorway of the gallery. I ran after it but saw no one. Once again, I was surrounded my lilies.

I was losing my mind.

_**May 5, 1912**_

Tonight was the night of the banquet and I was anything but ready to go. I couldn't get my dress buttoned without the help of the maids who all had the evening off. My hair was a disaster, so naturally I just pushed it back with my favorite comb. The dress I was wearing belonged to one of Wendy's bridesmaids. It was an elegant olive green dress. It had been a fall wedding, but Wendy insisted that I wear it.

"But it's so out of season!" I fingered the lace around my neck.

"But it's so gorgeous. You look wonderful in it." She buttoned behind me as I tried on the dress for the first time.

"Why couldn't I just wear something of my own?"

"Because you don't have anything fit for a banquet. And plus, you never know who you might run into."

Just like the other day, her words ran in my head like I was inside a clock tower, the words pounding and pulsihign through my body. But this time I struggled with the buttons on my own. Finally I got the last one buttoned and brushed my hair off my shoulders. Wendy was right. This was better than anything I had owned. I looked beautiful. But what scared me in the mirror is that I didn't look like my new, confident self. I looked scared and timid. After everything that had happened over the past couple of days, I had almost forgotten how to breathe. But tonight was the night and there was no turning back. Robert was waiting downstairs for me. Maybe I could love him one day. It would have been so much easier if I did have this mysterious suitor following me around.

I decending down the stairs and Robert took my hand. "You look beautiful as ever." He kissed my gloved hand with his soft lips. He looked handsome himself. I still couldn't believe someone like him was interested in me. Considering he had so many girls falling over him, I couldn't believe that he wanted me for his own.

He escorted me toward the car and Howard helped me in.

"Wendy, where are we going?" She pulled me through the crowd of elegantly dressed people. I was so thankful for my out-of-season gown. I blended in well no matter how elegant the dress was. Out of date fashion was never a good thing, even at a charity event.

"Robert!" She called out. She was excited. Wait, she was never excited to see her cousin. No! I was avoiding Robert. I was tired of being introduced to all his business friends. I wanted to just hang out with Wendy and Addie, but no. Wendy had other things in mind.

"Robert!" she called out again. "I found someone for you." Why was she so determined for me to find Robery? She knew my feelings about him, and she shouldn't push it more than she already has. Should I be upset with her for being so nosey and involved in my love life? I didn't know if it would be rude to comment, so I let it slide. If she had a reason for me to talk to Robert, then so be it.

A familiar man stood next to Robert, but I could match the back of the head with the face. The way the man stood was so familiar, I wanted to reach out and toch the man. This man wore a tattered suit compared to the rest of the men and his dirty blond hair was slicked back with massive amounts of styling gel.

I had seen this body before, but it had been in a dream. This body no longer belonged to a face. I waited for the man to turn around with a blank face on that oh-so-familiar when he did turn, I gasped. There he was. My Jack. Jack standing next to Robert as if they had been friends. His hands were in his pockets and he tried to hid the grin on his face. I wanted to run to him.

But this couldn't be real. This couldn't be my Jack. He was dead. I was seeing a ghost. This couldn't be real. It was sick joke played by Wendy and Robert. But when I glanced at Robert out of the corner of my eye, he looked concerned.

"Go to him," Wendy whispered in my ear. I glanced back at her and her eyes were full of tears with a huge smile on her face. "Misses Dawson."

All the blood had left my face. I was seeing a ghost. I was waiting for myself to collapse.

"Jack Dawson, this is Rose Dawson," Robert smiled looking between the two of us. "Rose, darling, are you alright? You look rather faint."

"She's fine, aren't you, Rosie?" This imposter of Jack asked and quickly grabbed my hand. "This is my dear cousin Rose. I haven't seen her in ages!"

Robert let out a sigh. "Long lost cousins. I knew you two had to be related someone with a name like that."

"Rose, it's me, Jack." He grabbed my pale face in my hands. "It's really me." He said in a whisper.

"But–" I tried to speak but he quickly hushed me. This couldn't be my Jack. He would know better than to shoosh me. The nerve of men.

"Robert, do you mind if Rose and I have a moment outside? She's a bit shocked. We haven't seen each other in years. You probably thought I was dead." He laughed and gave me a nudge with his elbow, hoping I would laugh too. But this was far from funny. I couldn't breathe. I needed fresh air.

Robert hesitated at first but handed the drink that was meant for me to Wendy. I refused to look at Wendy and the tears billowing in her eyes."Take all the time you need to catch up."


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chap 15**_

_**Jack**_

_**May 5, 1912**_

I lead Rose outside to where Marley sat anxiously waiting for someone to walk out of the door. "Not now, Marley." I muttered as I pulled Rose across the street and behind some shrubbery in a small park. Her pale face glowed in the moonlight. I couldn't get over how magnificent she looked in that olive dress. Wendy warned me that Rose would be looking wonderful tonight.

We stood there in silence as we took each other in. Her blue eyes were filled with confusion and fear.

"Rose, it's really me," I hesitated before reaching for her hands, but she pulled away. "I can see that fire inside you hasn't gone out." I wanted to reach for her red hair that blew around her face in the wind.

"Rose, it's okay. It's really me. I'm alive." But she still was quiet. Finally I had the balls to reach for her face, but suddenly she smacked me across mine. My cheek stung from her palm.

"Who are you? Why are you playing this sick game with me? Was it you that left the note?" The questions ran from her lips in a matter of milliseconds. She pulled a slip of paper out from inside her bodice. It was my note.

I shrugged and grinned. "Guilty as charged. Jack Dawson of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin." I tried to reach for her hand again, but she pulled away.

"If you really are my Jack, what happened the evening before the sinking?" Her eyes were firm and determined. She clenched her hands in fists.

"You paid me a dime," I smiled, remembering that oh-so-intimate moment between us. I can still picture her beautiful curves, "and I drew your picture."

"What was I wearing?" she asked sternly.

"More like what weren't you wearing?" I couldn't help myself, but it was true, and yet she smacked me again.

"I guess I deserved that one," I rubbed the side of my face. "You were wearing the _Heart of the Ocean_, and only that necklace. And before you ask the next question, you told me to put my hands on you and we made love in a car."

She rubbed her hands together, hard, like she was trying to peel something back. Peel back the reality or maybe the lack of reality in this moment. I was alive whether she wanted to accept it or not.

"What did you make me promise you before you died?" She spoke in almost a whisper, as if she was talking to a ghost.

I swallowed hard: "That you would never let go."

A single tear ran down her cheek.

"Rose, it really is me." I had to use all the strength in myself not to throw my arms around her. Tears ran down her cheeks but she did not sob at all.

She finally reached a hand toward me and I held my breath. I was afraid that if I breathed, it would scare her away.

"Jack Dawson," she ran her hand down my cheek and I felt a shiver down my spine. She ran her fingertips across my lips.

"Rose DeWitt Bukater Dawson," I whispered as her finger dragged along my jaw line. "I'm still going to have to ask you to write that down." A chuckle finally left her lips. God, did I love that laugh.

Ever so slowly, she leaned in a gently placed a kiss on my lips. It was so soft and uncertain, but it was a kiss from my Rose. Just like the first time we kissed on the nose of the ship, _I'm flying_, I couldn't resist myself and I took her into my arms. She didn't know what was real, but I could tell she knew this kiss and our love was.

I ran my hands through her long hair as we kissed passionately. A sob broke from behind her lips.

"I don't know how this is you, but it's really you," she kissed me between words.

We kissed for what felt like hours as my hands found every crevasse of her body. Well, everything I could find out in public. But she was the one who started to reach for my belt.

"Make love to me," She whispered as I kissed her neck. "Right here."

I grimaced and hand to bit my fist to stop myself from taking her up on her offer. Oh Rose, why do you do these things to me! But tonight wasn't the night. We needed to talk.

"We can't. Not just yet," I reluctantly pulled myself away from her. "Come with me."

"But what about banquet?" She asked. More like she was asking, what about Robert?

"Wendy will take care of him. I have a place we can talk."

_**Rose**_

_**May 5, 1912**_

I couldn't breathe. Was I crazy? But even if I couldn't accept the reality, I knew one thing was true: this was my Jack. I knew it was by the touch of his hands, the seriousness in his eyes, and even the smell of his breath.

"Make love to me," I whispered as he kissed my neck. "Right here."

I was serious. I wanted to make love to the love of my life right here. I didn't care who saw or what others thought. The man I loved more than life itself was back from the dead; was now running his hands down my spine; was now kissing my face.

"We can't. Not just yet." Yet. As long as we made love soon.

"But what about the banquet?" What about Robert? How could I possibly explain this one? I didn't even know how Robert and Jack knew each other, but I'm pretty sure they worked together. And someone Wendy was in on this all too. That explains a lot about how she had been acting toward my love life. She must have known about Jack.

"Wendy will take care of him. I have a place we can talk." I followed him into the night.

He hurried me into a bar down the street that I must have walked past a million times. I never went inside, but if I had, would I have found my Jack earlier on? There were only a few people inside, including a balding bartender.

"Where's Addie?" Jack asked the man. He stopped cleaning his glass and stared at me.

"Is this her, Jacky?" He asked with a grin.

Jack couldn't contain himself when he answered. He let out a soft chuckle before giving the man a nod.

"I thought Addie was at the banquet with Wendy."

"I didn't see her. She must be at the orphanage then." Wasn't Addie a friend of Wendy's? There were so many questions swirling in my brain. I had to sit down.

"Jack," I tugged on his hand, begging to sit, but he pulled me up a narrow staircase.

"Hold on," He whispered in the dark. We both reached the top of the stairs and he refused to let go of my hand. "Everything will be explained." He kissed me, sending shivers up my spine.

He opened the door to reveal a small apartment. There was a small kitchen and an even smaller sitting room. There was a hallway that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked and gestured toward a pale blue chair in the corner of the room. I took a seat and rubbed my hands together. Is this where he lived? All this time, he had been so close to me. Why was I so blind to the obvious going on around me?

"Do you live here?" I asked and took the glass of water he offered me. He took a sip of his own before sitting on the floor in front of me and took my empty hand. No. This wasn't right. Jack wasn't below me. We were on the same status. "Jack, please stand up."

"Why?" He asked confused.

"Or at least pull a chair over." I stood up and pulled a wooden chair from the kitchen into the room. "I don't want to look down at you. We're equals now. Both Dawsons, remember?"

A huge grin found its way onto his adorable face. "Oh, Rosie." He took my hand and kissed it.

"How are you alive?" I asked. I may have known this was my Jack, but I needed to know how this was my Jack. And then he told me. The entire story about how I started to hallucinate due to the cold. How we got separated and how he saw my name on the survivors list. Everything up until the present. I just sat there and soaked it all in. I couldn't believe it. It was all so out there, yet so real. Jack was alive and he was with me again.

"And Cora!" He nearly said in a giggle. He stroked a hand through his hair in anticipation. "Oh, God. Cora is doing great!"

"Cora is alive?" That part of the story was my favorite. I couldn't believe it.

"Yes!" He laughed. God, was I happy to hear that laugh again. "And once we get married and get our lives together, we're going to adopt her!"

"Oh, Jack!" I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his lips. I was crying I was so happy. But I knew the reality of life was going to hit me sooner or later. But right now, it was just me and Jack. Jack and I. Mister and Misses Dawson, even if it wasn't official. This was the man I loved and the man who loved me more than anything.

"You left the flower?"

He shrugged. "Make it count."

"I thought I was going crazy! I thought I had some pathological stalker! And I cannot believe Wendy knew this whole time!"

"She did a great job at keeping it a secret," Jack laughed and kissed my forehead. "God, Rose. I love you! I just couldn't stay away!"

"Did you know she was pregnant?" I asked, dying to tell someone about the news I learned earlier this week.

"Yes! She and Sam are thrilled."

I ran my fingers through his soft hair and stared into his blue eyes. This was my Jack. He was back in my life. I could never lose him again. My lips found his again. He pulled me up out of my chair and into a passionate kiss. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My entire world was Jack.

My heart was about to burst out of my chest when I finally said it. I couldn't wait any longer. Between all the good news and having him back, the only thing I wanted was to make love to the man that I loved.

"Put your hands on me, Jack." I whispered. His face grew flush like the first time I spoke those words to him, but this time there was little to no hesitation. I asked him to put his hands on me and he did.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Hey guys. So I made some edits to past chapters. I cut out the lemon because I wanted this story to be rated teen rather than mature. I might post the lemon as a one-shot and make it all sorts of dirty. Haha. Anywho. I'm doing some work on this fic before I write more. Stay posted!**_

_**CHAPTER 16**_

_**Cal**_

_**May 5, 1912**_

I wasn't a fan of these charity events, especially those that involved children, but I had to keep my image. I had to appeal to the people and prove that I was a great citizen of New York. Ever since Robert Atwood convinced me to move to New York, I felt that my status was rising even more than it had in Philadelphia. I hadn't known Robert long, but the idea of merging our companies was going to be a great success. It was just a matter of convincing his father I was a reliable man, and that Jamison man Robert looked so fondly of. To me, Jamison was just another street rat who worked at the factory on the edge of the city. Nothing important to the hundreds of thousands we were going to make. But it wouldn't take long to convince him either. Combining my steel company with Atwood's automobile factory was going to be the best thing New York has ever seen in the means of transportation. So much for public transportation. Private cars were the way to go for the elite.

But this charity event was disgusting. Thank God the children weren't around and instead back in their disgusting orphanage. Although I will admit that the woman who ran the place, Miss Addie I think her name is, was a doll. If not Miss Addie, maybe I could find a woman while I was here. None of them were exactly pretty, but they were decent enough to bring back to a hotel. Never would I bring them back to my humble abode. My house was much too nice for a prostitute like these women.

But there was one woman that drew my attention. A red-head; I couldn't see her face, but her long hair sent a shiver of interest and remembrance up my spin. I knew that hair. I knew that butterfly comb that held her hair back.

She stood next to Robert, a blonde woman, and–I couldn't believe my eyes. That damn street rat.

I ducked behind a pillar and hid myself from their sight. So they both had survived. Two street rats. But how did they end up here with Robert Atwood of all people? And the diamond. She had the diamond! Of course it wasn't around her neck since she hated the damned thing, but she looked happy. I couldn't believe I was saying it, but she looked happy. Shocked for some reason or another, but there was a glow to her skin I had never seen before.

She couldn't be this happy without me. If I couldn't have Rose then I would have her happiness. My hand clinched into a fix and nearly broke the glass of wine in my hand.

I would have that street rat dead if it was the last thing I ever did.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

_**Rose**_

_**May 5, 1912**_

I ran my hand down Jack's back unable to believe he was real. That this was real. He was alive and happy and well. We had just made love and he was breathing deeply as sleep took him over. At first, I didn't understand why Jack didn't just show himself to me the day he saw me walk past the café, but I would have thought I was going crazy. But I saw him die. I saw him sink into the water. But the fact that he was lying next to me right now, bright and warm, was a sign that I really must have been hallucinating that night. What else had happened to me once we were in the water that I couldn't remember happening? All I remember is being rescued and then finding myself on the _Carpathia _with the _Heart of the Ocean_ in my coat pocket, or rather Cal's coat pocket.

I stopped myself. This was the first time I had allowed myself to think about that day. For the past few months, I've just been hiding it in the back of my mind. But the sinking of _Titanic _defined my life in more ways than one. I would never forget those three days on the ship; the three days I spent with Jack and those three days I thought we our last. Jack was the love of my life and he was right here with me.

I kissed his shoulder before sitting up and looking around. The room was lit by a dim light, but it was enough to find his sketch book–or the makings of a sketch book–sitting on the dresser. I smiled to myself and wondered what beautiful sketches he had inside. I climbed out of bed and walked across the room to his drawings in only my naked skin. I thought of my drawing and I reached for the hollow in neck where the necklace would have laid, but the necklace was safe in my room back at the Atwood's in my bedside table.

Robert. I only now remembered I needed to get back to the event! Robert must have been worried sick. Jack and I had been gone for nearly two hours. I needed to get back.

"Jack, darling," I whispered into his ear. I let my long hair drag along his back before I kissed his cheek. "Jack." His heavy breathing continued. He must have been exhausted. Instead of waking him, I wrote him a quick note and left it on the pillow. I know he would wake up reaching for me. I so desperately wanted to wake up next to him tomorrow morning, but I needed to be long gone by then.

I quickly pulled my dress back on and somehow managed to fight my corset back on as well. I pinned my hair back up and tried my best to get the red glow to leave my face, but I was glowing. I couldn't stop. I was ecstatic. Jack was alive and I knew where he lived now. Maybe our happy ever after could work out after all.

I hurried back to the house with the tail of my dress in hand. It was too late to head back to the banquet anyway, and I could use the excuse that I was tired if I made it home before anyone else–Alfred. I completely forgot that he didn't attend the banquet because he had been feeling a bit under the weather. But then I snuck back into the house, he was fast asleep in the parlor. I let out a sigh. I made it, but I wasn't out of the hornet's nest yet. If I could just make it upstairs before Molly–

"What are you doing home, missy?" She snapped from down the hall. I glanced down the few stairs I made up at Molly who was still in her evening gown.

"I was feeling poorly –" I tried to answer but she cut me off.

"'Poorly?' You don't look poorly," She walked down the hall toward me. "Actually you look like you're glowing. This wouldn't have anything to do with that mysterious boy you ran off with, would it? Your _cousin_?"

I have nothing to say; no excuses to be made.

"Robert told me about your cousin, Jack, and how you two went off to have a walk in the night," She looked at my messy hair and tousled dress. "Seems like more than a walk in the night happened–"

"Can we talk about this upstairs?" The last thing I needed was Robert to walk into this conversation. "Molly, please."

She sized me up once again before giving a quick nod upstairs. "He's not home yet, but he's on his way. Get ready for bed and I'll tell him you felt ill after visiting with your _cousin." _Once again she emphasized on cousin with almost disgust. Why was she upset with me? Wasn't she happy Jack was alive, or did she not realize it was my Jack?

I quickly ran up the stairs, threw off my dress, and jumped into my nightgown. I sat alone in my room listening to the rest of the family come home from the banquet. I heard footsteps outside my door and then some whispers, but they disappeared. Was Robert asking about me?

My light was still on, but I had slipped under the covers as if I had fallen asleep. Finally the door squeaked open and Molly slipped into the room.

"Are you mad?" Molly sat at the foot of my bed. "The Atwood's haven't asked us to find our own place yet because they think of us as part of the family, but more importantly, they want you to be part of the family some day. Legally."

"Molly, Jack is alive!"

"Did you hear what I just said?" She snapped which gathering my blankets into her fist.

"Did you hear what I just said?" I snapped back. She needed to listen to me. I didn't care if I was meant to be in love with Robert. I was in love with Jack and that wasn't changing for anything.

"Yes, I did and I think you're mad!"

"Why?" I tried so hard to keep my voice down. I was furious. Molly should understand! She knew Jack and how happy he made–makes–me.

She let out a dramatic sigh and loosened the grip on my blanket. Neither of us said anything for a solid minute.

"To be young and in love," she muttered under her breath. "How is he alive? I thought you said–"

I tried my best to explain his story to her, but I knew I couldn't do it justice.

"He is alive. Believe me," I found myself blushing.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Oh, Rosie. Don't get yourself pregnant on top of things!"

"Molly!"

"But in all seriousness, if you don't marry Robert, we can't stay here much longer. My house still isn't finished with renovations and we can't be living in a household with Robert strung up on you while you're out with Jack."

"Then I'll move in with Jack." I protested.

"Terrible idea. Neither of you have money. You're both living on charity as it is!"

She was right. Jack and I had nothing. And if we wanted to raise Cora–our jobs weren't enough to pay for a new house. A new family. "I'll figure it out."

"No, you won't. Now I'm not asking you to forget about Jack, but you can't see him until we move out. The Atwood's won't throw us out or anything, but the last thing we need is a love triangle going on that everyone knows about. You have to worry about the Atwood's reputation and your own."

"But I don't love–"

"I know you don't love him, but you're just going to continue on as if Jack isn't around, okay? You can't be sneaking around. Too much is at stake. Jack's job, our home, my relationship with the Atwoods? I brought you into this family and we can't disrespect them like this. You have to politely decline Robert when he finally courts you, but until then, continue as you have."

I felt like I was back in my old life, listening to my mother's rules and not living by my own. Was I really going to let this happen? Pretend that I like Robert until we move out? This all sounded a bit ridiculous. But I had to play along for Molly's sake. But what about Jack and myself? Was I being selfish to simply want a happy ever after?

**A/N: Guys. I need your help. I am at a total loss of what to write next. I have a few things in mind, but I need fillers. I need ideas. HELP. Will update soon :D**


	18. Chapter 18

_**CHAPTER 18**_

_**JACK**_

_**May 7, 1912**_

I needed a plan. I needed to figure out how to make my perfect family. I had Cora. I had Rose. I just need to put the two together. I needed the three of us to finally be together. But how? I didn't have enough money, nor did Rose. I was going to have to find a second job or something, or–then I remembered the job offer I got from Robert. But how would that work out? If he found out about me and Rosie, our fantasy would be ever further away from a reality.

"Dawson!" I looked up from my station, snapping myself out of my deep thoughts. It was Atwood. Oh shit. This was going to be awkward. I pushed back my hair and took a deep breath.

"Good morning, Robert." This was the first time I had seen him since the party. Oh the party! That wonderful party where I was reunited with the love of my life! I couldn't believe it was real, but there she was, lying naked next to me… I got a shiver down my spine thinking of her. "How are you on this fine morning?"

"I'm doing just fine, Dawson," I expected him to look pissed off at me, but he was almost glowing. "How about yourself?"

"Oh just fine, sir. Doing just fine." I smiled. I couldn't look too happy or he might get suspicious.

"I had wondered where you and Rose had run off to the other night. We missed you at the banquet."

Shit. Act casual. You're fine. He doesn't know anything. "Oh, she was in such shock that I ended up taking her home. She couldn't believe I was alive." Okay, so I wasn't completely lying, but I was still lying to my boss and that did not feel right.

"She thought you were dead?" He asked with much curiosity in his eyes. I swallowed hard hoping he wouldn't see through my lies.

"Yes. We lived with our Aunt Lottie during the summer for several years. After my parents died, I moved in with Aunt Lottie, but Rose stopped coming around and spent all her time with her parents. I eventually left town and she heard some terrible rumor that I had fallen down the family well or something of the sort. Total lies, but you know how rumors spread. People will believe anything these days." I tried not to chuckle because I felt that was too obvious. Was I sweating? I hoped to God I didn't smell like Marley's shit or something.

"What a tale," Robert smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. "Well I'm glad you two were reunited. We will have to have you over for dinner sometime."

"Definitely, sir, but I wouldn't want to impose–"

"Nonsense. My house is your house, Dawson," More like the woman you think is safe in your arms is also the woman I love. "But in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about the position I offered you the other day."

"Yes, sir, I remember." I crossed my arms behind my back and crossed both index fingers. I needed this job more than I needed to breathe.

"So what do you think? We could really use someone with your talent."

The guilt building in my stomach was going to kill me. "I would love to, sir."

I stopped by the orphanage that evening after work. Most of the children were settling down for the night, but Cora sat by the front door, waiting. It broke my heart to see her waiting for me. I loved her so much, but I couldn't promise her our dream life together just yet even if I had just gotten hired for a better position. I still needed to make a name for myself before I could bring us all together.

"Uncle Jack!" She cried when I opened the front door. She wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Hey there, Cora! How are you today?" I picked her up into my arms and she nuzzled her head into the crook of my neck.

"Fine. Better now that you're here!" She giggled. Her dark hair tickled my neck.

I fought back the tears, but before I could leave Cora with an empty promise, Addie walked down the hall.

"Hello, Jack. You're here late," Addie glanced at Cora before looking me back in the eye. She hated that I came to see Cora because she knew I was only full of empty promises. I was going to prove Addie and everyone else wrong. I would bring my family together.

"Guess what! Robert hired me as his artist! I'm going to draw the designs for his cars!" I was beaming. Despite the heavy pain on my heart about this whole situation, I was still ecstatic to have gotten the position. I couldn't wait to tell Rose.

The tension in Addie's forehead subsided. She let out a sigh. "That's great, Jack," She once again looked me straight in the eye before she stopped herself. "Jack, I need to talk to you. Let's put Cora to bed first."

"Awwww! But he just got here!" Cora protested before sticking her thumb in her mouth and rubbed her eye with her free hand.

I kissed her on the forehead and began to walk up the narrow stairway. "We will have plenty of time soon enough, love."

I tucked Cora in and kissed her on the forehead yet again. She was already asleep by the time I closed the door. Seeing Cora was always the highlight of my day, but I couldn't promise I would see her tomorrow. I needed to figure out how to manage this new job and how to see Rose.

"Jack, I have some news–" Addie looked tired. She had heavy bags beneath her eyes and she wore her nightgown beneath her worn robe.

"I will get the money to adopt her," I interrupted. "Soon enough. I can promise you that."

"Jack–"

"We will be a family–"

"Jack, please," she said very sternly before letting out a sigh. "Cora is going to be adopted."

"Great! So do you understand–"

"By another family."

It took moments for me to fathom the information, and then I couldn't breathe.

"That's bullshit, Addie. Complete bullshit!" I couldn't believe this. After all my hard work to get Rose back, after all the support that Addie and Wendy gave me, it had come to this.

"Please, keep your voice down," She pulled me to the end of the hall, away from the children's rooms. "They came by the other day and fell in love with Cora."

"You couldn't have said she wasn't up for adoption?" I was furious. How could Addie have done this to me? My perfect family was crumbling even before we were a family.

"She's not a dog that I can sell. She's a girl who is looking for a family."

"I'm her family!"

"Jack, you must think about what is best for her."

"I am what is best for her. She's my best girl!" I demanded. "Rose and I are her family–"

"Rose isn't even yours to have. You love her, yes, and she loves you, but think of her situation. The both of you just can't drop everything to make this dream a reality."

"Addie, what are you saying–"

"I'm saying you need to be realistic. Jack, I'm sorry, but you need to realize–"

"So you gave me false hope?" I couldn't believe this.

"Jack–"

"How much time do I have?"

She sighed. "They're picking her up at the end of the week."

I couldn't stand to have this conversation any longer. I had to get out of here. I would figure all this bullshit out. I just needed time. One week. I could get my family together in one week. I had to.

A/N: Things are getting intense! Stay posted for more :)


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19 **

_**Rose**_

_**May 8, 1912**_

"Addie doesn't believe in us either," Jack hung his head. I stopped myself from reaching to stroke his hair. We were sitting on the same bench that I talked to Robert about Jack. But this time, the sun wasn't out and the rain was rolling in. Thunder rumbled in the far distance. "I just can't get over that even Molly doesn't have faith in our love."

"It's not that. She just doesn't find it to be–" I swallowed hard. I was trying to be strong about the situation, but it was so frustrating. Jack and I had no one on our side.

"Realistic? Same thing Addie said," Jack stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock down the hill. "This is so fucking stupid! Why does my life always have to be so damn hard!"

He was shouting at this point. "Jack, my love, please."

He quickly sat back down and pulled my hand into his lap. "I knew I loved you the moment I saw you. Why can't anyone else accept that?"

"Because they think we are too different, but Molly knows I'm a changed woman since the sinking. I won't take trouble from anyone." Then why was I going through all this trouble being bullied by Molly and Addie? I loved Jack. Why couldn't we just run off and be peasants somewhere. I wouldn't mind being poor just as long as I had him.

He answered my thoughts: "We could just run away, but what about Cora? I have to prove to Addie that we can pull ourselves together and make a family."

I hesitated to ask: "Have you met this couple who wants to adopt her?"

"No, I refuse."

"Maybe it would be best–"

"No," He squeezed my hand and even glared at me. For a second, I was scared of Jack. "Cora is just as important to me as you are."

"Then what are we going to do? We have a week."

"I know–wait. What if you adopted her!"

"Jack, I couldn't support her without you–"

"But the Atwoods could! They'd love Cora. You know it."

"She's not a dog! You can't just pass her around from person to person. Doesn't she get to decide in this at all?" I was getting frustrated with Jack at this point. He was being ridiculous. Cora has a right to decide what she wanted to do with her life. She was a free woman just like myself.

"She wants to be with me. With us," he squeezed my hand again. "Can you at least talk to Addie?"

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't promise Jack anything, but those eyes wouldn't back down. I avoided them at all cost until I had no where else to look.

"I'll talk to Addie."

He kissed me full on the mouth. I pulled away quickly and looked around. If anyone had seen, I would have been in so much trouble. "Jack, please."

He grabbed my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. "Thank you. I love you."

"I know. I love you too." And I did.

"I can't do that." She continued to wash the dished in the sink. The orphanage was quiet and all the children were in bed. Ms. Greyson was already asleep as well. We could hear her snoring in from down the hall.

"Addie, what do I have to do to change your mind? We both have jobs. Cora will have a mother and a father for the first time in her entire life. A family that loves her."

"You don't have a home. Neither of you have stability right now. You can raise a child!"

"But Addie, please–"

"Rose, please," she sighed. Heavy bags hung from her eyes. "I've had enough begging from Jack already."

"Who is this couple that wants to adopt her. Can we meet them at least?"

"He's a single man," I impatiently waited for her answer. She rung out the towel in her hands. I almost felt sorry for this man, but then I realized he was what came between us and Cora. "He's actually on his way over right now so we can chat more about Cora. You can meet him then if you really want to. But I don't want Jack meeting him. I'm afraid he would do something he would regret."

"But if you know how much Jack cares for her, why would you let her got to this other man?"

"Cora needs a home and this man is offering. Jack doesn't have what this man has."

"But Jack loves her. Isn't that all she needs?"

There was a knock on the door. "Rose, please. I'm too tired to keep arguing. I'll let you meet the man and then we can see where we go from there. Who knows? You may know him."

"What his name?" I asked as we walked to the front door. Addie rubbed her hands on her apron before turning the knob. I stood behind the door.

The door swung open. I hid behind it with my back to the stairs. "Miss Addie, you look beautiful as always."

My fists clinched. My jaw tightened and my brain began to throb. I knew that voice all too well.

"Mr. Hockley, welcome."

Before Addie had even closed the door, I sprinted up the stairs. Addie was playing dumb all this time. She knew who Cal was. She knew I knew him. What or who was she trying to protect? Didn't she know how horrible of a person he was?

"Who was that?" I heard Cal ask from the top of the stairs.

"Probably just one of the children…" Addie's reply was drowned out by the adrenaline pumping through my blood. I slipped quietly into Cora's room and shook her awake.

"Cora, wake up. It's Rose. Wake up."

"Rose?" She rubbed her eye with one thumb. The other was in her mouth. "What are you doing here–"

"Sweetheart, I'm going to adopt you! Uncle Jack and I are going to adopt you."

"Really?" she said a bit too loud. I shooshed her.

"Yes. Tomorrow night. Jack will be back to adopt you. But you have to promise not to tell anyone. It's a secret and you don't want to ruin the surprise, do you?"

"No. Never." She whispered.

I heard Addie and Cal downstairs. I couldn't go back down there without being seen by him.

I glanced out the window before pulling it open and praying that I didn't wake any of the other children.

"Tomorrow night. Be ready," I kissed her on the forehead. "I'll see you then." I kissed her goodnight and tucked her back into bed. I don't know how I did it, but I climbed out of the window onto the roof in a dress and boots. I went down the fire escape ladder and into the dead of night. I couldn't wait to tell Jack. I wasn't going to let Cal ruin her life too.

A/N: Spoiler, but next chapter is going to be about how Cal found out about Cora. Also, this fic is feeling like it's coming to an end too. I'm thinking only 25-30 chapters total. Stick around. Love you all.


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